


This Was No Accident (it was a therapeutic chain of events)

by Madd4the24



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, Kpop - Fandom, SHINee, Super Junior
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Firefly Verse, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, BFF Changmin/Kyuhyun, Everyone Still Loves Him, Heists, Kyuhyun Is A Little Shit, M/M, On the Run, Past Character Death, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Sexual Tension, Space Opera, awkward boys being awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 136,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5027539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madd4the24/pseuds/Madd4the24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate to escape a loveless, dangerous arranged marriage, Jaejoong books passage on hardened Captain Yunho's space freighter bound for the far reaches of the solar system. Along the way Jaejoong falls hopelessly in love with Captain Yunho's interesting, eclectic crew, and also the man himself. But giving chase is a bounty hunter, one who'll do whatever it takes to recover Jaejoong and the bounty on his head. No matter who he has to take out along the way.</p><p>(A Firefly inspired Space Opera AU filled to the brim with sarcastic wit, awkward sexual tension, action and adventure, and one massive heist of epic proportions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One: Changmin

**Author's Note:**

> It's my firm belief that every author has that moment. No matter what, eventually, they have the moment. That moment where they wake up one morning and think, today's the day. Today's the day I write that Firefly AU. When I started this story, that was my day. It's more of a rite of passage, than anything else, in fanfic. And Kpop doesn't have enough Firefly AU in it, so this is my humble contribution.
> 
> Enjoy!

As was customary, before uttering a single word, Changmin’s long fingers reached for the box of incense marked by the rose atop it in full bloom. Drawing out one stick, he brought it carefully over to a brightly burning candle, lit the end, and smelled the burst of unmistakable jasmine in his nose. His favorite smell in the world.

He let the scent linger for a moment, the rustling of clothing the only sound in the room, soaking in the serenity around him. The sound dampeners kept out the hustle and bustle of the busy city around them, and the exceptionally large parcel of land the temple was placed upon could often afford its occupants the illusion of being secluded from the world around them.

“Now,” he said finally, “We can begin.”

When he turned back to face the room it filled him with such sudden joy to peer out at the seven earnest faces watching his every move. Such youth and innocence was something that Changmin felt drawn to nurture instinctively, which was quite startling considering in the past he’d never felt any kind of inclination towards children. But as of late his mind was beginning to change, and the idea of a family of his own was a warming and prevailing notion.

Changmin moved to the soft, satin cushion at the head of the room and folded his legs underneath him as he sat. Hands on his knees, he said, “In the beginning, there was only the Faceless God.”

Several children leaned forward at their own perches, and Changmin did his best not to smile at the movements. For most of the children, ranging in age from seven to nine, this was a much needed break from relentless studies, in everything from mathematics to philosophy. And especially from the hour each day in which fingers actually bled from frantic attempts to master the fairest of instruments. Changmin’s part of the day, at least for the younger children, was nothing but story time. A combination of relaxation through meditation and tales of old.

“According to the old legends,” Changmin continued, teasing at the child closest to him, “told first thousands of years before you were born, Martell,” the child giggled, “the Faceless God was alone in the darkness. He found this to be displeasing, therefore He created all life.”

The youngest of the children, a fair skinned girl who was still weaning the loss of her parents and old life, spoke out of turn, “But who created the Faceless God?”

Another voice rang out, “And why was he faceless?”

Changmin quieted them patiently, waited for them to settle down, and then said, “The Faceless God was without form because the universe was without life. When there was life, He became Nameless. And, if you’ll all listen carefully to the whole tale, your questions will be answered. Agreed?”

Around him tiny heads bobbed, still thoroughly engrossed with every word he said. 

“Now, the Faceless God gave birth to the world, and because there was now life and beauty around Him, He was no longer without form. But He was without a name, because He was alone. So He became the Nameless God, and sought to cure loneliness, as if it were a disease.”

Just behind the furthest child from him Changmin could see the sun low in the sky. It would set soon, and the children would have their final meal of the day before returning to their beds for sweet slumber. With any luck, Changmin would be able to slip away from the Academy. At least for the night.

“Did He?” a soft voice asked.

Changmin nodded. “The Nameless God forged for himself a daughter. Do any of you know why?”

Tentatively a few hands raised into the air, and Changmin nodded at the most reluctant of them.

“Because,” a young boy replied slowly, “girls are nicer than boys?”

Changmin chuckled. “The Nameless God, Darrin, created Himself a daughter because they are in fact, very nice. But also because they’re gentle and kind and loving. The Nameless God knew that if He created a son, there would be companionship, but also the potential for volatile competitiveness. But a daughter, the Nameless God reasoned, would bring about patience, creativity, and knowledge. Thus, a daughter was created, and the Nameless God was no more. Now He was the Father God.”

This was a tale Changmin had heard himself dozens of times before, from his elders, teachers, and even friends. While the children were too young to fully grasp the story, or its importance, it was best to familiarize them with it at as young an age as possible. This was a story they would tell their clients, in soothing, gentle voices, perhaps over a massage, or the sweet moments after passionate love making. 

A boy to Changmin’s left crossed his arms and remarked, “Girls aren’t always nice.”

“No,” Changmin agreed with an indulgent look. “And that is something that the Nameless God, now the Father God, quickly learned. For His daughter, the Sun Goddess, was just as quick to temper as nurturing. She could sir the sea into tsunamis, whip the wind into hurricanes, and upturn the earth at the mere thought of dissatisfaction.”

“Why?”

“She was often lonely as well,” Changmin provided. “She was a daughter, but She wished to be a sister and mother. She loved her Father God very much, but She wanted more.”

A shadow crossed against the light in the distance and it drew Changmin’s attention right away, tripping his words up, making him give pause in disbelief.

The children must have sensed his loss of thought because the one nearest him, Martell prodded, “Teacher? You said the Sun Goddess was unhappy?” He parroted back to Changmin, “She wanted more?”

Seconds later the shadow had a form, and words that were, “It’s been my experience, kid, that women usually do.”

Seven heads turned at once and Changmin let out a low exhale of breath. “Your experience is severely limited, sir, if you think only women want more.”

“Sir?” the man laughed, hands on his empty belt. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been called that, Minnie. At least in a way that wasn’t condescending.” Changmin supposed he should have been thankful the man had sense enough to not bring a revolver into a temple that housed a large volume of children. 

Changmin rolled his eyes and stood slowly. Turning his back on the man, he walked the short distance to the incense and smothered the tip with his thumb and finger quickly. The smell would linger in the room, however. It would likely be there, floating through the air like mist on a cold winter morning, when the older students arrived for their vocal lessons the following day.

“Children,” Changmin said, dipping his fingers into his long sleeves and giving them a customary bow, “why don’t you all take a trip through the nearby gardens? The Father God created for His Sun Goddess daughter a Moon God brother. Some of our best sculptors on Helios have created works that are present in the garden. Go and see which ones you can find, and I’ll ask you about them tomorrow.”

It was with some reservation that the children rose from their seats, regarding the stranger with caution and some with distain. They arced wildly around him to use the other exit, wary of who he could be, dressed in brown pants and a browner coat, dirt smudging his face slightly, hands calloused from pistol use.

Changmin had seen more than one of the children look to his gun belt, eyes searching for the guns that had stolen life before

When all the children were gone, most of them forgetting the stranger moments after exiting the room, skipping and frolicking off to the garden hand in hand, Changmin said to the man hotly, “You ruined my lesson.”

“Did I now?” the man questioned, moving through the room to the center, quick and nimble on his feet as the navigated the maze of pillows the children had been sitting on. “Don’t you think they’re a bit young for the rest of the story?”

Changmin crossed his arms. “They’re not for the point of it. The story serves to illustrate that we are all ever changing, ever evolving, and that even mighty Gods can be humbled, therefore we must be as well.”

“Because,” the man chortled, “the Sun Goddess and the Moon God end up having incestuous sex, which produces the children that supposedly we’re descendant from, and eventually end up overthrowing their father, who, shocker, disapproves of the relationship. The story goes they locked him below ground where the Father God becomes the Death God, and ferries souls specifically who come to him prematurely, as if they’re the children he once wept to have.”

“No,” Changmin said sourly, “I thought I’d leave out the near patricide and the incest. Just for today, though.” The man laughed and Changmin asked, “What are you doing here, Yunho?”

Yunho grinned wider than he had been before. “Can’t a man come see his little brother?”

Truth be told, and all decorum aside, Changmin wanted to desperately throw himself at his brother. It had been nearly eight months since he’d seen Yunho, and those months had been full of nightmares. His brother was too reckless, too easy to forgive his enemies, and careless with his life. There was never much of a guarantee that Yunho would come back to him, which made every parting that much more difficult.

But Changmin was mindful of how often the walls had eyes, so he merely gave his brother a knowing look and said, “Were I not who I am, you might be so carefree. But you know as well as I do, that you can’t simply come waltzing in here to see me any time you want.”

Yunho shrugged. “Maybe I bought you.”

Changmin snorted. “Bullshit.” It felt good to let the curse word slip. He spent most of his time around children, who couldn’t be exposed to such vulgarity yet, and adults who were his respected peers that would think less of him if they heard the words. But with his brother there was no pretense, and he could say what he wanted.

“I tried,” Yunho eased out, taking a daring step forward. “I tried to put my request in for your time about a week ago. And imagine my surprise when I was rejected simply because you’re no longer accepting requests. Changmin, what’s going on?”

Simply, Changmin said, “I haven’t been taking clients for several months now, Yunho, and this is something you’d know if you hadn’t been gallivanting around the galaxy, doing your best to not get arrested for smuggling goods that you know very well are illegal.”

“Hey,” Yunho protested, thumbs hanging on his belt, “I’ll have you know I only smuggle contraband about half the time. I’m still a legitimate business man, Minnie, at least fifty percent of the time.”

Changmin said, “You charmed your way in here, didn’t you?”

Yunho leaned forward them, tugging him into a firm hug that was exactly what Changmin had been craving for what felt like forever. His brother’s arms were heavy and comforting around him, making him feel a child again in the best way.

To Changmin, who hardly ever left the planet now, Yunho smelled like space. It was a distinct, unmistakable smell of fuel, stardust and freedom. 

“Inez let me in when I told her I hadn’t seen you in over half a year. She said she’d look the other way when I try to slip out.”

With one last squeeze to Yunho, Changmin released him to begin cleaning up the classroom. There wasn’t much in the way of clean up, however. The younger children were exceptionally tidy. It was always the older ones, the ones who were closer to initiation or dismissal, that left the biggest messes.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Yunho said, following him around the room. “Why aren’t you taking clients? You’ve never not taken clients.”

Changmin tossed over his shoulder, “Isn’t it my prerogative?”

“Sure,” Yunho said. “It’s just not expected.”

There were a few candles that Changmin had to put out, silencing the flames with his fingers. Through one of the windows he could see the children in the nearby garden, darting about, enjoying themselves. He thought it was a million times better than keeping them cooped up inside. The weather would be cold soon, but for now it was fine for them to play until dusk.

“Maybe I’ve decided that the children are my calling.”

Yunho arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you even liked children.”

Yunho, Changmin could admit, had always been the more affectionate of them. Yunho could be hard and demanding, but he could also be comforting and nurturing. He loved children, and they seemed to flock to him naturally. If a year ago someone had told Changmin that he’d be the one surrounded by children, and not Yunho, it would have been a laughable statement.

“Why are you here?” Changmin asked, trying not to sound like he was prying into Yunho’s business. He was very much aware that sometimes, the less he knew, the better. More than once there had been Alliance representatives at the Academy doors, humiliating him with their questions about Yunho. “And how long are you planning on staying?”

Yunho ticked off on his fingers, “Kyuhyun wanted to visit his sister--she’s with the Helios orchestra for the season, and Onew had a list about a mile long of parts he needs for the ship to keep her going for the next couple of months. But I think Ryeowook just wanted to stretch his legs on a Core planet for a while, and Zhou Mi would never pass up an opportunity to shop in a high end district like the one here on Helios’s capital. Leeteuk is going to attempt to reign in the spending of all parties, but I haven no doubt Zhou Mi will come back with more clothes than he can possible wear, and god help us with Ryeowook having access to the food market about four blocks from here.”

Changmin inferred, “So you’re in-between jobs, spending credits that I’m going to hope were obtained in the fifty percent of legitimate business you conduct.”

“I can safely report that your fears are not realized, brother mine,” Yunho said. “All the credits that are spent today, will be the kind that were legally obtained.” His face darkened for a moment. “I’m sorry about what happened last time, with those bastards coming at you, thinking you knew where I was laying low.”

Humiliation hadn’t even begun to cover having Alliance men on Academy property. His superiors had given him dark looks for weeks, and Yunho had nearly tarnished his reputation by association alone. 

There were a lot of things Changmin could abide by, and many more he could overlook, but his reputation was by far the most important thing he had. His reputation garnered him work, and would continue to impact the future he planned to have very shortly. 

He desperately needed it to remain intact. 

“You nearly cost me a booking,” Changmin said accusingly. “I choose my clients very carefully, Yunho, and I often look forward to the meetings as much as you do. To have a client nearly back out, based on the Companion, is nearly unheard of. People would have talked about it for months, if it had happened.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Yunho breathed out, and Changmin believed him. “Let me make it up to you. Dinner, tonight, with the crew. They’ve really missed you, Minnie, especially Kyuhyun. I know you guys are really close.”

Changmin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the mention of his close friend. Kyuhyun was wild. He was rebellious and free, adventurous and daring. He made Changmin laugh, but more than that, he allowed Changmin to vicariously experience all of the life that Kyuhyun lived continuously. 

“I can’t,” Changmin said, settling the last of the candles to the side, making sure the incense was carefully tucked away for future lessons. “I have a previous engagement tonight. Tomorrow?” When Yunho didn’t immediately answer, Changmin felt a pit settle in his stomach. “Is this … are you not staying longer than just today?”

The look on Yunho’s face was too telling. “Changmin …”

“Why?” Changmin demanded, feeling himself get angry, “would you come all this way, make a journey that must have taken the better part of a week to reach Helios, and only stay one night?”

He couldn’t possibly duck out of the dinner he’d committed to, later that night. It had been too long in the making, with extensive guests expected at the magistrate’s home, and Changmin prepared to give the best first impression humanly possible. Not even for Yunho, who had been gone eight months, could Changmin cancel.

Mostly because Yunho would be gone again soon enough, maybe for even longer than before, and Changmin had his whole life in front of him waiting to be made or broken during dinner.

But also because Changmin was actually looking forward to the dinner, and meeting everyone.

Look absurdly guilty, Yunho rocked back a little on his feet and said, “See, here’s the thing …”

Changmin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yunho.”

Voice low, so much that he was nearly whispering at Changmin, “I got a lead, Minnie. I finally got one. On the Eye.”

Changmin threw his hands up. “Not this again, Yunho!”

“No, wait!” As Changmin turned to put distance between them, lest he strangle his brother to death, Yunho darted closer, insisting, “I mean it this time, Changmin. I have real, concrete information this time. No wild goose chases! I have a real lead on the Eye, and I came here because I need your help.”

The Eye. The Eye of Terra.

It was an absolute myth, no matter what Yunho foolhardily thought, and no amount of leads or evidence would prove otherwise. The Eye, which was supposed to be an impossibly valuable gem--a blood red diamond, was more importantly rumored to be one of two necessary keys capable of opening a vault of Earth’s greatest treasures. Naturally it was completely shrouded in mystery where this vault was, and the bigger mysteries were no doubt were who had preserved all of these treasures, but also what the second key was. None of this had stopped Yunho from plowing ahead with his near obsession over finding it, barely taking enough jobs to keep his ship flying and his crew fed. It was the most reckless thing about his brother, his infatuation with the vault and primary the Eye, and Changmin had long ago stopped believing in the tales children grew out of with puberty.

“I don’t want to hear this,” Changmin said, pulling away. “I mean it, Yunho.”

“Will you just give me a minute?” Yunho asked, voice straining. “I’m your brother, aren’t I? Don’t I deserve sixty seconds of your precious time. I’d pay for it, were that an option.”

Changmin clamped down on his anger. “Sixty seconds, Yunho. And only because you’re my brother.”

Technically speaking, they weren’t brothers in a biological sense. Instead Changmin had been one of the younger orphans of Eaton, not quite a Core planet of the Alliance, but not a Fringe one either. He’d been wandering the streets, barely a few years old and not equipped to survive for very long until Yunho had come upon on him and taken him under his wing.

Maybe Yunho just hadn’t wanted to starve alone, because that year, the year Changmin had met Yunho, was the last year of the Browncoat Rebellion. Trade and food resources from off planet had been drying for years, but in Changmin’s fifth year alive, they ended completely.

Changmin being chosen to train with the Companion Guild was something of a miracle, then. A miracle named Yunho.

And Yunho told it this way:

A Companion representative had come Eaton to choose one child, maybe two, under duress from Core activists who were pressuring the guild to pull children from outside the upper class on Core planets. When Yunho had heard the news, and also that those chosen to train as companions would be well fed, well educated and propelled up in society for the rest of their lives, Yunho had taken Changmin by the hand, taken him directly to the representative and presented him so boldly as the best candidate that apparently refusal hadn’t been an option.

There had been thousands of children bought to see the representative, and only Changmin had been chosen from Eaton.

It was not lost on Changmin that Yunho could have pressed for himself. As a child Yunho had been extremely adorable, smart, clever and determined. If anything had gone different, any single thing, Yunho could have been the one being trained as a Companion. And Changmin likely wouldn’t have survived the streets without him. 

Changmin had barely survived living a life of luxury, separated from the one person he called family, until Yunho was old enough to earn passage to Helios and land work on the planet allowing them to visit each other frequently.

Until, at least, Yunho had gotten the Eye in his mind a decade ago and been distracted by it enough to go off world often for years at a time.

“Okay, listen to this,” Yunho rushed out, seeming almost childlike in his need to explain. “I was on Boria when I heard about it.”

“Essentially a smugglers den,” Changmin interrupted smoothly. “Let me guess ,you were drinking and playing cards?”

Yunho grinned foolishly. “What else is there to do on Boria?”

Changmin shrugged. “There’s also the whores.”

“Anyway,” Yunho pressed on, clearing his throat in a way that told Changmin he had in fact visited a brothel or two on the planet. “There was this old timer on Boria, and true, he was a drunkard and I normally wouldn’t have paid him any attention, but he claimed to be a servant of the Old Ones. More than that, he said he’d been indentured to the First Family in his youth, and that he’d actually seen it.”

“The ramblings of a drunkard,” Changmin said flatly.

From within the breast pocket Yunho retrieved a faded photograph and showed it immediately to Changmin. “That’s him, Minnie, the little boy in the far back corner. And pray tell me what’s that in his hand?”

Changmin squinted at the photograph. It was hard to make out a lot of it, the film having seen better days, but indeed there was a small child in the periphery of it, and something spherical was in his hand. 

“That’s it, Changmin. That’s the goddamn Eye.”

The photo was black and white so it was more than a little difficult to tell for sure, but it actually looked like a gem the boy was handling.

“This doesn’t prove it’s the Eye.”

Yunho held up a patient finger. “This old timer told me quite the unique story about the First Family and he swears on his life that they gave the Eye to an unsuspecting family friend, fashioned it into an ornament of sorts, and to protect it they hid it in plain sight. As you know, the First Family’s first and only priority is preserving the memory of Earth that was. And Changmin, I know the alleged family they gave it to.”

Okay, though Changmin couldn’t bring himself to admit it, he was a bit curious now. This was substantially more than Yunho had ever had on the Eye. And while Changmin still didn’t quite believe it existed, he also knew that Yunho had gone off on the chase before with far less evidence.

But it begged the question …

“What does this have to do with me?” Changmin handed the photograph back and narrowed his eyes as his brother. “Why tell me all this?”

“It’s the Choi family,” Yunho said with a bit of a wince. “The Choi’s of New Haven, and you know what that means.”

Changmin almost choked on the air he drew in. “Are you serious?” In terms of Core planets, New Haven was one of the most wealthy, and also the most heavy protected. The residents of the small planet were heavily screened, and visitors were hardy ever allowed planet side. An orbiting space station took care of most of the trade needed for the planet, but the planet itself remained rich and secluded. Elitist. 

Changmin resided on Helios, a very rich planet, and often took clients from the more prestigious planets such as Persephone, but New Haven was a beast all its own. And even Changmin had been vetted heavily the only time he’d taken a client from the planet. In fact it had been such a hassle that he’d vowed never to do it again. And for one other very important reason.

“Yunho,” Changmin said almost sympathetically, “you’re not getting on that planet. No one gets on that planet who isn’t supposed to be there.”

“Ah,” Yunho corrected, “no one gets on that planet that doesn’t have legitimate business. A Companion … one like you would have business there, and you’d need someone to ferry you there. That would be me.”

And now Yunho’s presence made perfect sense. Along with this prying as to why Changmin wasn’t currently taking clients.

Furry building in Changmin’s blood, he asked, “So you’re using my feeling for you, as my brother, to whore me out to whoever suits your purposes?”

The color drained out of Yunho’s face. “No! Changmin. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“That’s pretty much what it sounds like.”

He just couldn’t bring himself to confess that he’d do worse if Yunho but asked. Yunho, his brother, had risked is life to protect Changmin on the streets, and fended off the sharks to get Changmin in with one of the most prestigious guilds possible. Yunho had sacrificed and given everything for Changmin, and for all of the anger Changmin felt for him at times, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Yunho.

Yunho almost wailed sorrowfully, “I know you took Choi Siwon as a client once. You’re the only Companion he’s ever seen that I have direct access to, and his birthday is coming up. Did he … request you for the event?” 

Once before Changmin had remarked to Yunho that Siwon was his most determined client, several times a year requesting his presence, attempting to ply him with gifts and attention. 

Gritting his teeth, Changmin revealed, “Siwon has placed a request for my services.”

Yunho turned away, running a nervous hand through his hair. “I was just thinking that you’d accept, and he’d be in such a feeling of elation that he’d allow you to pass through customs on the planet especially fast. After all, his birthday is in six days.”

“And,” Changmin added, “it’ll take at last five days to get there. Which is why you wanted to leave as soon as possible, to make the deadline.”

“I am not,” Yunho stressed, “asking you to be unfaithful to your vows, or do anything you don’t want to. It just thought that if you accepted Siwon’s invitation, he’d be so utterly distracted that maybe he wouldn’t notice me looking around for the Eye. It’s not uncommon for the more lucrative and sought after Companions to have a bodyguard or two.”

Changmin felt his chest ache a little. “Is this what I’m worth to you, Yunho? A way to get your foot in the door?”

Yunho looked more than reproachful when he turned back to look at Changmin. And with a cracking voice, he said, “I love you very much, Changmin. You’re my brother and I care for you even more than you think I care for the Eye. If you did this for me, it would simply be a favor between brothers. But don’t think for a second that if you choose not to, that I won’t still love you exactly as much as I do now. If you say no, I’ll figure something else out, and I’ll come back as soon as I can. Sooner than before, and we’ll get to spend some real time together. Do you understand?”

It was absolutely true that Yunho had the ability to make him feel like a child with the briefest of words. A child who craved the affection and love of the only family he’d ever known. His big brother.

“Why the rush?” Changmin questioned. “There will be other opportunities besides this party.”

“Ah,” Yunho replied, “but I wasn’t the only one listening to the old man, and by now the news is out that it’s possible the Choi family has been hiding the Eye for over a hundred years. I won’t be the only one attempting to get planet side in the coming week, and I certainly won’t be the only one attempting to get into the party.”

Palms sweating, Changmin steadied himself and asked, “Do you really want to know why I’m not taking clients anymore? It’s directly linked to why I can’t go away with you this very second.”

Yunho’s head dipped. “Are you considering retirement?”

Changmin clarified. “I am retiring. Yunho, I’m getting married.”

The startled look on Yunho’s face was almost comical, along with the way he listed almost suddenly to the side, peering at Changmin like he was a stranger. “You’re getting married?”

Changmin gave a shaky nod, not at all sure why he was so unsteady. “Tonight I’m supposed to attend a dinner that my fiancé’s family is hosting. Tonight, Yunho, I’m meeting my soon to be extended family. A lot of them for the first time.” He’d finally have the big family he’d always wanted.

Eyes watering, Yunho whispered, “My Minnie is really engaged? Getting married?”

“I am.”

Yunho pressed, “Who?”

Lips pulling into a smile, Changmin revealed, “Choi Minho. The Magistrate’s son. It’ll be announced after tonight.”

Yunho was so plainly awed. “The Magistrate’s son? Minnie, you’re moving up in the world. To the very top.”

Changmin ran his hand almost nervously through his hair. “I met him over a year ago, and there was an instant connection. I saw him three times in six months, which is quite uncommon. And then eventually he wanted to see me exclusively. He wanted to marry me. So out of respect to him I haven’t been taking any other clients until the wedding can be announced and my withdrawal from the guild begun.”

“Respect?” Yunho questioned almost viciously.

“Love,” Changmin indulged. “I haven’t been taking clients because I love him and I want to be with only him.”

Yunho looked like he needed to sit down. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Changmin said, daring to grin. “I’m going to meet his grandmother tonight. And his brother who’s been on Persephone for the past three years. Yunho, tonight is very important. Minho is the Magistrate’s son and I represent the Companion’s Guild, in a favorable position as is. Tonight has to go well. Tonight is the most important night of my life thus far.”

“I understand, Minnie. And I’m happy for you.” He actually looked like he felt the words he was saying, making Changmin feel eternally better. He had known his big brother’s approval would matter, but hadn’t imagine it would be this much.

“Can’t you stay an extra day?” Changmin asked. “I want you to meet Minho. I want to know that you like him.”

“If you like him--love him, it’s enough.” Yunho shook his head. “And I only came all the way out to Helios to see if I could persuade you to have a part in the heist just this once. I’m so very happy for you, Changmin, but I can’t linger. When’s the wedding?”

“The summer,” Changmin said. “Minho wants an outdoors wedding, and I don’t really care either way. But by summer my withdrawal from the Companion Guild will be finalized and Minho will have his father’s seat on the council. We’ll be in a good position.”

Yunho swore, his voice firm, “I’ll be there, Minnie. I’ll be there to see you get married.”

Changmin reached over to pinch his arm. “Then give up this Eye business. If you get caught trying to sneak onto New Haven you’ll get at least a five year sentence in the labor camps. You won’t be around to see me get married.”

Yunho gave him a wink. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry,” Changmin sighed. 

Yunho slid a hand around the back of Changmin’s neck and drew him in for a sweet kiss to the forehead. “You just remember who the big brother is here.”

“Me, because I’m taller,” Changmin teased.

Finally Yunho released him and hooked his fingers again on his belt. “I guess I’ll be going then. I mean it, Changmin. I’ll be here for your wedding. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And when I come back, we’ll get dinner and hang out and it’ll be great.”

Watching Yunho leave was always a difficult thing, and though Changmin had mastered control of his body a decade ago, his emotions still eluded him at times. 

Maybe it was just he feared that his brother would end up breaking his word one day, and he’d come back in a body bag, if he came back at all.

For his meeting with Minho’s family, Changmin bathed with rosewater, brushed his hair a thousand strokes and painted his face with the makeup he almost only wore when seeing a client. He dressed in his most expensive clothing, exquisite silk that fell like water across his skin with a shimmer, and glanced his appearance in the mirror before leaving for Minho’s family home.

He looked perfect. Absolutely perfect.

If only he could make himself smile.

Changmin certainly wasn’t the first to arrive, but he was earlier than most of the expected guests. It was deliberate on his part, giving himself more than enough time to greet his expected father-in-law respectfully, take a quick cup of tea with the woman who’d be his mother-in-law, and steal away with Minho for a brief second of uninterrupted silence. Often they were followed by chaperones, but Changmin liked to think he and Minho were getting better at avoiding them.

“You look upset,” Minho observed right away, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his hand as he led them through deserted rooms in search of true privacy. “Is something wrong?”

Changmin shook his head, but did confide, “My brother came to see me.”

Minho finally stopped them in his father’s solar, closed the door behind them and proceeded to push Changmin up against it, giving him a more proper kiss. Certainly it was the kind of kiss that their chaperones wouldn’t approve of. “Ah, the mysterious brother that I have yet to meet. That’s not a good thing that he’s here?”

“It is,” Changmin agreed, kissing Minho back deftly. “I only get to see him a couple times a year. It’s just …” 

“Yes?”

Changmin felt a grimace cross his face. “He asked me to do something Minho.”

Minho’s long, beautiful fingers traced Changmin’s jaw lovingly. “Something you didn’t want to do?”

“I don’t particularly, but he’s my brother and I’d do most anything for him.”

“Then what?” Minho asked.

Changmin felt a grimace overcome him. “In almost twenty-five years I can count on one hand the amount of times Yunho has actually asked anything serious of me. He simply doesn’t ask important things, but when he does, it’s because he really … needs them from me.”

“You want to help him?” Minho pressed another kiss to Changmin’s mouth, but this one was dry, indicating that there would be no heavy makeout session. 

“What he asked of me,” Changmin eased out, “you wouldn’t like it.”

“Can you tell me?”

Changmin gave him a sorry face. “Yunho’s business isn’t always legitimate. This is a case of that. I don’t want to implicate you in any way, if something were to happen.”

A little angry, Minho asked, “But your brother was all too quick to try and implicate you?”

Changmin gave Minho a soft push. “He wouldn’t do that, Minho. He’s even more overprotective than you are, if you can possibly believe that. No, what he asked of me is completely legal, and even if things went bad for him, I’d be perfectly fine.”

Minho asked, “So it’s something you don’t personally agree with?”

Changmin’s head thudded back on the door and he groaned. “It’s complicated.”

Minho took Changmin’s hand in his own and squeezed it. “I think you’d better tell me what you can. And Changmin, I hope I don’t have to remind you that whatever you tell me stays with me. I won’t ever betray your confidence, especially with your brother.”

They were going to be married, Changmin supposed. And they were very much in love. Minho had been trusted with other things before, as well, and never had he betrayed Changmin. Of course the matter with Yunho was different, but this was the man Changmin intended to spend the rest of his life with, and who was a pure and honest man.

Eventually Changmin revealed, “Yunho wanted me to do something that I promised I wouldn’t do anymore, out of love and respect for you.”

Minho listened attentively and patiently.


	2. Two: Jaejoong

Back when he had been in medical school, a torturous thing that saw more drop out casualties than graduates, Jaejoong had pulled sixteen, sometimes seventeen hour shifts. As an intern, there’d been at least ten hours walking the floor, four or five spent with his nose in a book, and whatever time left over was dedicated to practicing on both medical dummies and the computer sims, perfecting his techniques. 

And all of this had been done with little to no sleep, without lingering effects.

Now, out of his internship, past his residency, and as a fully decorated surgeon, Jaejoong found himself struggling to get through twelve hour days. 

It was possible the past was catching up with him, or that he was simply getting older.

Regardless, the days felt longer, his feet hurt more frequently, and double or triple shifts at a time were starting to leech away the color from his skin.

But then there were the moments, the big ones sprinkled in between the smaller ones, that made Jaejoong feel like he had the best, most important job in the world. Moments where he challenged himself, pulled off deemed impossible miracles, and saved actual lives. The job could be monotonous, filled with runny noses and hovering parents. But it could also be awe inspiring.

Moments like these. 

“Here we go,” Jaejoong announced, hand poised at the ready. He extended a careful finger, gave the nurse next to him a steady nod, and reached into the tiny cavern in front of him.

A machine nearby gave a soft, clicking sound, there was a collective gasp of air held, and Jaejoong ran his finger firmly against the tiny baby’s heart. The baby, a one year old that Jaejoong had been caring for since its delivery, was sometimes the only thing keeping him going when he was dead on his feet. When he’d just pulled a fifteen hour shift, hadn’t eaten in twice as long, and was lacking enough sleep to keep him going any longer, he’d go down to the nursery, to the special care ward, and sit in front of the baby’s incubator. He’d sit in front of James Bartholomew Risler, and marvel at the tenacity of life.

Jaejoong closed his eyes, his finger massaging the muscle more intensely. Come on, he pleaded silently. There’d be no putting the baby back on the machine. If his newly transplanted heart didn’t begin to beat on its own within the next few seconds, keeping the baby alive would be next to impossible.

James had been a fighter since his birth, and long through his heart failure. Jaejoong couldn’t possibly imagine him giving up now. Jaejoong wouldn’t allow it.

“Doctor,” a nurse whispered.

“One more second,” Jaejoong pleaded, searching desperately for any hint that the surgery was a success. Anything at all.

Then miraculously, as if the gods themselves had heard his plea, the tiny heart jumped under Jaejoong’s finger. Then it jumped again, and again, and a monitor whirred to life measuring the beats, projecting a healthy beat count and sending a whoop of joy through the operating room.

“There we go,” Jaejoong sighed out happily, grinning down at the little boy. “I knew you’d make it.” 

Jaejoong hadn’t lost a baby in three years, the longest record yet for someone in his field, and the other nurses and doctors regarded him as somewhat beyond a gifted surgeon in that regard. Parents bought their children from the Core to the Rim, just for his life saving techniques, and he delivered them results. It was possible some of his colleagues believed he’d never lost a baby period, but of course that was a lie.

On his first rotation as an intern, Jaejoong had watched an infant pass so suddenly that nothing could be done. And his very first surgery as a resident had seen a baby bleed out from a ruptured vessel, something that was Jaejoong’s mistake. He had lost plenty of children over the years, their lives weighing on him like tiny stones building to a mass of something so impossible to lug around at times he felt like stumbling, falling, and not getting back up.

It was a mere fluke that he hadn’t lost a baby in three years. 

And surgeons seemed to have very short memories, in Jaejoong’s opinion, especially when he was brining the hospital accolades that they benefited from with his revolutionary techniques and life saving record.

“Okay, Lee,” Jaejoong said, taking a step back and nodding at the young doctor next to him. “Go ahead and close him up. You confident you can do that?”

The young resident, a first year and one of six Jaejoong had on his rotation, stepped forward without hesitation and with calm confidence. “I know I can, sir,” he said, and there was a crinkle to his eyes that told Jaejoong he’d be spreading around what had just happened to the other interns within the hour.

Stepping out of the operating room Jaejoong pulled at his scrubs, wiped away the sweat on his forehead and went to find the baby’s parents. Telling them the good news, after so many months of waiting for a compatible replacement heart to be grown on the hospital’s laboratory, was like sweet music.

He had two patients to check on after the surgery, and a consult for a three year old just after the noon hour, but Jaejoong felt like he was floating on air as the hours passed. His fingers were twitching to get back into the operating room and do more good.

At seven, just as the sun was starting to go down, there was a message to his private comm from his father, reminding him to leave the hospital at a respectable time and be home for dinner. It was an odd message, one just as formal as always, but with a hint of a threat in it. There’d be hell to pay if he failed to show to the meal, and that meant his father had something important to share with him. Probably something he wouldn’t like.

“Making the rounds again, doctor?” a pretty, young brunette nurse asked him as he pushed through to the main area of the hospital, too much on his mind.

He hummed dismissively at her as he headed directly to the lift that would take him to the seventeenth floor. He couldn’t leave before checking on James one last time, but he also couldn’t dawdle. 

Jaejoong could willingly admit that his father scared the life out of him. A hard, unflinching man, Jaejoong had grown up without so much as a kind word from him, and a slew of expectations. Expectations, apparently, that Jaejoong had never met. And if his father was to be believed, he’d been a disappointment from the start, too kind, too empathetic, and too quick to help others.

It was quite plain to see that his father had wanted a ruthless, meticulous and even apathetic heir to carry on the family business. He’d wanted a son who would follow him around with keen eyes, taking note of the often underhanded techniques used to conduct business, and accepting the belief that getting one’s hands dirty, sometimes with blood, was simply a byproduct of a competitive and lucrative system.

And to say that his father had been unhappy that he’d chosen to go into medicine, was an understatement. He still felt the bruises, from nearly a decade ago, that had been beaten into him when he refused to yield. To the day it was the only thing he’d ever fought his father on. It was the only thing he’d ever won against the man. And the broken arm afterwards, and the concussion, were battle wounds he wore proudly for the months afterwards. 

It didn’t seem to matter that they called him gifted, or that he’d graduated in the top two percent of his class and finished his residency in half the time of his peers. His father had wanted a businessman. His father had wanted an economic strategist, not a life saver.

When baby James was confirmed to be safely sleeping in his cot, his new heart beating flawlessly, Jaejoong pulled his white coat from his shoulders and went to hail a cab. It was impossible to know if his mother would be expected for dinner as well. She’d gone on heavier medication as of late, and rarely left her bed.

He entered through the back entrance, swiping his thumbprint on the pad quickly and leaning down for a retina check. Using the back entrance ensured that he wouldn’t be prematurely accosted by his father, who deemed anything but the front door to be for the trash.

And he was up in his bedroom, locking the door behind him, before he could breathe a real sigh of relief. If dinner was likely at eight, he had just enough time to shower and change into a better suit than he’d worn to the hospital. 

“You’re home,” a voice said from already in the room, but Jaejoong barely batted an eye.

“I know, before dark. It’s news worthy of the front page of the post tomorrow morning, wouldn’t you agree, Yoochun?”

Lounging on Jaejoong’s bed, looking utterly at home, was Jaejoong’s best friend. In many ways, Yoochun was more than simply a friend. He and Jaejoong were only slightly off in age, and had been raised together since childhood. Jaejoong could barely remember a point in his life when Yoochun hadn’t been there. Yoochun was as constant as a sunrise, and would continue to be so as long as Jaejoong’s father held his life contract. 

One day Jaejoong would secure the contract. He’d take his friends life and give it back to him, and he wouldn’t be indentured any longer. He wouldn’t be little better than a slave. And he would be Jaejoong’s equal brother.

“I knew you would be,” Yoochun said, sitting up with a groan. “I bet your father sent you a nasty message warning you to be.”

Jaejoong pulled at his tie and agreed, “Of course he did. And I bet you know why.” He paused and frowned, “It’s not about my sister, is it?”

“Chorong?” Yoochun asked. He shook his head immediately, to Jaejoong’s relief. “No, it’s definitely about you. And it also has something to do with the guest your father is having over. By the way, he scares the crap out of me.”

Halfway to the bathroom door, and his shirt mostly unbuttoned, Jaejoong came to a stop and said slowly, “There’s a guest for dinner?”

Yoochun slid off of the bed quickly and padded across the soft carpet of the spacious room to Jaejoong’s side. “I saw him about an hour ago, from the window. And I peeked in on them in your father’s study. I mean it when I say he’s scary looking. It’s something in his eyes. It’s something in them that scares me to death.”

Quietly, Jaejoong asked, “Do you know who he is?’

“No.” Yoochun shook his head. “But I know he does business with your father. Something about exports to the Rim.”

The new information gave Jaejoong no comfort. His father had a monopoly on the export business from Helios to both the main Core planets and those in the Rim. With the Core planets he was forced to price fairly, and follow strictly enforced taxation. However when dealing with the Rim planets, the kind that often so desperately needed products and supplies, his father was manipulative and exploitative, and just downright unfair. 

Yoochun hedged, “I can try to find out something about him. Maybe one of the servants who leave the house more frequently would know.”

“No. Don’t worry about it.” Jaejoong put a comforting hand on Yoochun’s shoulder and tried to force a smile. He wanted to do as little as possible to remind Yoochun that his freedom was often limited to the house, and had been since Jaejoong had finished his residency at the hospital. While some of the other indentured servants went frequently to the market, Yoochun spent his days cooped up in the house, caring for Jaejoong’s mother, doing his best to avoid the master of the house. “I supposed I’ll know who he is soon enough.”

Jaejoong ended up taking the longest shower he’d had in months. At twenty minutes it was a blissful paradise of warmth compared to the two, sometimes three minute ice cold showers he’d take at the hospital. Those were meant to not only clean him as quickly as possible, but also keep him awake.

When he exited the shower Yoochun had laid out the clothing he’d wear, and as he dressed, belting his pants and tucking in his shirt, his thoughts strayed back to the baby’s life that he had saved earlier in the day. James was alive. His tiny fighter baby had pulled through. And no matter what Jaejoong knew his father thought of his occupation, Jaejoong was determined not to let him take it away. There would be other doctors to perform other life saving operations, but Jaejoong wanted to be the one developing new techniques, refining the old ones, and saving the impossible babies that others gave up hope on.

“You look very handsome,” Yoochun said teasingly as he brushed off imaginary lint from Jaejoong’s shoulder. “Even your father is going to think so.”

Jaejoong rolled his eyes and headed towards the door to his room. “I’d hope so, Yoochun. He designed me this way.”

His father and the mystery guest were already in the dinning room by the time Jaejoong reached the first floor. Their mumblings were soft from the nearby foyer he stood in, and Jaejoong held his last bit of resistance from joining them as the clock on the wall ticked by the seconds. Whatever came next was going to be excruciatingly painful.

He was just reaching for the heavy double doors in order to announce himself when he heard his father mumble, “Come now, Kangwoo, I think at least fifteen. This isn’t such a tall order for you, is it? I thought your reach extended much further than a mere fifteen of the nearest to Tajo.”

Tajo, Jaejoong quickly placed, as a Rim planet relatively far out. It wasn’t recently terraformed, but certainly looked that way. Decidedly backwater, his father would call the planet.

His father’s guest, Kangwoo, gave a deep laugh. “Indeed my pockets are much deeper than yours, Jinho. However, fifteen is a lot to ask in return for something that will need to be tamed. Broken. Molded. I’ll have to put in significant work, you see, whereas you will profit immediately.”

Jaejoong leaned forward to press his ear to the door. He tried to listen to his father’s business deals as little as possible, but there was something about the entire conversation that was making him anxious.

“Broken?” Jaejoong’s father laughed. “Hardly, my friend. I’ve been able to beat less resistant out of a dog. You’ll find this is a case of more bark than actual bite.”

A floorboard behind Jaejoong squeaked and he spun, heart racing, to merely see Yoochun at the bottom of the nearby grand staircase. Jaejoong pressed a finger to his lips and turned his concentration back to the conversation.

“Yet,” Kangwoo was saying, “you allow him to flaunt your lack of control all over Helios’s underprivileged hospitals. He could be working in Persephone’s elite trauma center, but instead he’s providing charity to the more impoverished citizens of Helios.”

Him, Jaejoong realized, they were speaking about him.

“I do not let him do anything that does not serve my purpose,” his father said. “His work is a mere distraction that I allow for the sake of meetings such as this.”

Behind Jaejoong Yoochun hovered, a hand at the small of his back in a comforting fashion.

“Let me see his picture again.”

“He’ll be here to see in person in mere minutes.”

Kangwoo scoffed. “I prefer to have this settled before hand. The picture.”

Jaejoong could barely force himself to breathe as his father remarked, “He is quite beautiful. It’s surprising, Jinho, that you would choose such a beautiful face for your heir.”

Glassware clanked. “Beauty hides deception. It was my hope, but possibly your reality, that his beauty would fool any halfwit into a false sense of security. When men feel secure, they make mistakes. Had Jaejoong any sense, he’d have used his looks from the very beginning to profit this family.” His father exhaled loudly. “But in any case, you can see that he’s very attractive, appealing to both men and women, and worthy to stand at your arm during any function or party.”

“Oh, gods,” Jaejoong breathed out. They couldn’t possible be discussing …

“He looks a bit like my late wife,” Kangwoo observed loudly, probably plied with copious amounts of wine by now. “But don’t you have a daughter as well? Why attempt to trade your son to me? A daughter could give me heirs.”

“He means to sell me into marriage,” Jaejoong whispered viciously to Yoochun who wrapped him into a tight hug, holding him in place as much as protecting him. “He means to sell me.”

“You already have heirs,” Jaejoong’s father reminded. “And Chorong has already been promised to another. So I repeat to you, fifteen. Fifteen and he’s yours. This is a fair price.”

“Twelve,” the man haggled back. “You claim I won’t have to beat him, but his intelligence and ingenuity in perusing his own career path, instead of yours, proves otherwise.”

“Fourteen,” Jaejoong’s father shot back hotly. “I have no doubt you are very much capable of beating obedience into him. And your daughter is terminally ill, correct? Jaejoong’s skills as a doctor will make him twice as valuable to you in this regard. Fourteen.”

They were bartering his freedom away as if he were an animal. They were ripping apart who he was as a person, as a man, and it was so callously done that Jaejoong worried for his sanity.

“Shhh,” Yoochun soothed, but Jaejoong could feel him shaking too. Shaking with anger of fear or maybe some twisted combination,, but shaking nonetheless.

After a lengthy pause Kangwoo’s voice came back, thundering out, “Thirteen! And, Jinho, because you have always been a worth adversary to me, if your son proves to be as easy to handle as you claim a few well mannered beatings will produce, I’ll name you a fourteenth before the year is out.” 

Jaejoong sucked air in through clenched teeth, not finding there to be nearly enough.

Thirteen what? He was worth thirteen of what?

“Agreed,” his father said, and Jaejoong might have lost his footing under him if Yoochun hadn’t been there, bracing him up against the door, supporting the majority of his weight. “The export rights to the thirteen colonies located closest to Tajo, and a fourteenth to follow, I’m sure. Now, where is that damned boy? I imagine you’ll want to verify his looks and temperament before the ink is dry on the contract.”

Jaejoong twisted away from Yoochun in an instant. And with such a frantic need to get away, his foot caught the edge of a nearby rug and he stumbled, nearly falling to his knees before getting his balance back and surging forward for the stairs. He climbed them two, sometimes three at once, and while gasping for air, lunged back towards his bedroom.

He could hear Yoochun rushing after him, calling as loudly as he dared for Jaejoong to slow down and be careful.

Jaejoong did trip as soon as he reached his room, tumbling across the rugs in an uncoordinated fashion. His palms burned from the fall and his shoulders heaved. There were tears coming. 

“Jae …” Yoochun said softly behind him, closing the door without sound. 

“He’s going to sell me off,” Jaejoon said, still fighting to even out his breathing. “Like cattle. I’m no more to him than cattle.” Beautiful cattle. The kind that his father could rid himself of in return for a more economic opportunity. And the same would likely be no better for his sister.

This man, Kangwoo, whoever he was, would not abide things to be as they had been before. Jaejoong knew as much from merely hearing him talk. He’d be a harsher master than Jaejoong’s own father, and he would most certainly be a master. Jaejoong would be little more than a slave.

Worse than that, he’d be a slave purchased for his beauty, expected to warm a bed at night.

“I would rather die,” Jaejoong spat out, “than marry that man.”

And before Yoochun could stop him he was flying to the huge bay windows of his room, flinging them open and throwing a leg over.

“No!” Yoochun shouted, tackling him with disregard, dragging him back away from the window and wrestling him to the ground.

“Get off!” Jaejoong fought. “Get off of me right now. You have no idea--”

“What it’s like to be owned by someone else?” Yoochun challenged with a raised voice. “Get over yourself, Jaejoong. I know perfectly well what it’s like. I know what it’s like to be held captive, told when to eat and drink and shit and sleep and even what to think. I know what it’s like to get beat for something that isn’t your fault, and I know what it’s like to think that death is a better option. But I am not going to let you kill yourself. I am not going to let you even think about it.”

Jaejoong’s bedroom was on the third floor of the house. And while the drop alone might not kill him if he went feet first, though broken bones were likely, a head first dive would spell disaster. Jaejoong knew just the right way to fall, in order to maximize his chances of breaking his neck or spilling his gray matter out onto the cobblestones below.

“Don’t you presume--”

“Death,” Yoochun cut him off, “is not your only option.”

No, Jaejoong supposed. He could accept the marriage. He could go willingly and submissively and take his beatings with his husband’s marital rights. He could become a shell of who he was, never work again in a hospital, never save lives or be free. He could accept the hand fate had dealt him and go through with it.

“I choose death,” Jaejoong said, voice shaking. The fall would feel like an eternity, but he wouldn’t suffer. And at least he could die free. He could be free. 

Yoochun leveled a heavy finger up at him. “You swear to me right now that you’ll never choose such a thing. Swear!”

Jaejoong watched him whip away before an answer could be given, and Yoochun moved instead to hunt through Jaejoong’s closet before pulling out his most recently purchased piece of luggage.

“What are you doing?” Jaejoong asked, climbing to his feet slowly. “Yoochun?”

Yoochun threw open the suitcase and began to fill it quickly with anything from the closet he could grab, shits and slacks and vests. “Swear to me, Jaejoong,” he said, snapping the luggage closed when it was full. “Swear to me that you’ll never consider killing yourself again when there’s still the choice to live left.”

In the distance the sun was fully set and the house was close enough to the space port that Jaejoong could see the blinking lights of the spaceships. They were magnificent, and he’d spent a good deal of his nights as a child watching them take off and land, imagining what kind of adventures they were going off to have.

“I would swear it, Yoochun, if it were real. But what is there to live for? A man forcing himself on me? My freedom snatched away as if it never existed? The likelihood of daily beatings?”

Yoochun stared hard, shoulders heaving with breath.

“Yoochun?”

It was a moment more before Jaejoong realized Yoochun wasn’t staring at him. Rather he was looking past Jaejoong, and to the space port in the distance. 

“Jaejoong,” Yoochun said, slowly and deliberately, his eyes straying over to meet Jaejoong’s, “get your winter coat. We need to go now.”

They must have looked like the two biggest fools on the planet, shimmying down the piping of the biggest house on the street. And more than once Jaejoong almost lost his grip and fell atop Yoochun who would have done little to break his fall. But eventually the ground was reached and Jaejoong allowed Yoochun to pull him away from the residence without so much as a look back, but with no idea what was ahead.

“I have a plan,” Yoochun said, holding onto Jaejoong’s luggage life a lifeline. 

It had taken them less time to reach the port than Jaejoong had expected, and despite it being after dark, the area was well lit and well populated. However hellhounds were at their heels, and no doubt his father had already discovered he was missing. Security footage would be all too easy to access, and they’d be tracked to the shipyard within minutes.

“What kind of plan?” Jaejoong all but demanded, flustering a bit as Yoochun took a moment to primp him, straightening his hair, fixing the fit of his coat, and making him look a little more presentable. 

“The kind that’s reckless and stupid and might end up getting the both of us killed. Do you want to go back?”

Jaejoong shook his head silently. 

“Good,” Yoochun said, and then they were forging ahead, steaming into the mass of people starting to thin out from the end of the day, moving like ants in every direction, making Jaejoong a little dizzy. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’re going to take a ship somewhere?” Jaejoong asked, eyes a little wide. His father had a luxury shuttle capable of short trips to and from each of the three moons that orbited Helios, but it had been years since Jaejoong had been aboard one of them, and something told him it wouldn’t be the same as taking a freight ship like most of the kind docked at the port.

“As far away from here as possible,” Yoochun replied.

It was a bit like having his pick of the liter, and it was also overwhelming. There were all kinds of ships surrounding them, some preparing for take off, some of them cold. They ranged in size from small and compact to so big some were actually offensive to look at. But they all seemed to radiate the freedom Jaejoong was desperately looking to have.

“Which one are we going to take?” Jaejoon asked, certainly at a miss as to which would best suit their needs. “How do we barter passageway?”

Yoochun’s eyes, which were narrowed and calculating as they assessed each ship, relayed, “We’re looking for a medium sized ship, something inconspicuous, naturally. It should likely be a cargo ship, the unimposing type preferably, and one that doesn’t ferry people often. And we should look for former Browncoats.”

Jaejoong startled a little. “Browncoats? I don’t think that’s wise.”

“It’s the wisest decision possible,” Yoochun argued. “They’ll be less likely to ask questions and they’ll do their best to steer clear of the Alliance without us having to bribe them extra for it.”

“Like that one?” Jaejoong pointed at a ship directly in front of them, several uncouth characters lingering around the front of it, obviously seasoned war veterans. 

“Not like them,” Yoochun said right away, reaching to pull Jaejoong’s arm away. “We want a crew that won’t rob us in our sleep and space us at the first chance. Or worse.”

Jaejoong shot him a pale look. “You’re not suggesting--”

Yoochun interrupted him by stopping suddenly with raised eyebrows. “We want that one. I’m sure.”

Jaejoong peered at the ship in question. It was bulky in appearance, in desperate need of a paintjob, and seemed to be halfway to the junkyard already. Jaejoong couldn’t begin to see what was appealing about it. “Why?”

Yoochun said appraisingly, “It’s a Mako class, build for speed despite what you see. That’s the point, actually. She looks like she’s heavy and slow, but really she’s faster than almost anything else non Alliance out there. She’s not overly reliable in terms of her parts, but she performs well under pressure and what we need more than anything else right now is speed. We also need a crew like theirs.”

Yoochun nodded ahead and Jaejoong could see a man with his back turned to them, the captain if Jaejoong had to put his money on it from his long coat to the way he held himself. He was chatting easily with a taller man with sharp features--the truly beautiful kind, and laced through the tallest man’s fingers were those belonging to another boy, this one obviously younger but grinning wildly and laughing freely. 

“You want them because one of them is laughing?”

“No,” Yoochun admitted. “I want them because that kid laughing is pretty like you are, and that smile on his face is real. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jaejoong said nothing but trailed after Yoochun as he led them through the maze of people to reach the Mako class ship.

When they got there the pair who’d been holding hands were gone, but the captain was the one they were likely to speak with anyway.

“Captain,” Yoochun called out confidently, striding ahead with Jaejoong’s luggage in hand. “We’re looking to secure passageway off Helios as soon as possible. Will you be departing tonight?”

Jaejoong, distracted by the hissing coming from the ship, had missed the moment the captain had turned. But when Jaejoong did look, determined to play his part, he faltered a bit. The captain was younger than expected, with broad, strong shoulders and a very attractive face. He didn’t like the sort to rob, rape and space them. 

But then Jaejoong had never been very good at reading people, and also his father claimed he put too much stock in people in general.

The captain gave them a grin, but it wasn’t a nice one, and remarked, “Wouldn’t two … ah, fine gentlemen such as yourself, want to procure travel on a more befitting vessel?”

Yoochun challenged, “Is yours not space worthy?”

The captain’s face lit as he glanced up at the ship. “Oh, she’s more than space worthy. She’s good enough to take us to the Rim and back again, especially with the fresh parts she’s got now.”

“Splendid,” Yoochun remarked. “That’s exactly where we want to go.”

The captain’s face faltered a little. “Sorry to get your hopes up, but we’re actually going further in, not out. Got some business near the Core. Looks like you gents will have to find yourself another ship to take passage on.”

Yoochun’s shoulders tightened and Jaejoong sensed trouble. 

Jaejoong’s credit pad was heavy in his pocket, something he never went anywhere without, and before Yoochun could say anything, Jaejoong spilled out, “We’ll pay double the usual fare.”

“I already told you,” the captain relayed, “we’re going the opposite direction you want to.”

A chill passed through the area and Jaejoong pulled his coat closer. It did little to keep the cold away, but the way the captain was looking at him was terribly revealing. The captain, whoever this man was, seemed as if he could see right through Jaejoong. He obviously knew they were hiding something.

“But if you’re going towards the Core,” Yoochun said knowingly, “then you’ll have to pass by the Moon Hub. Obviously there are few pickings here than my companion and I would like, but we might fare better there. How about you take us to the Moon Hub, which is a mere three days from here and on your way, and we’ll still pay you the offered double sum for the full length of the journey. How does that sound to you, Captain?”

The captain’s eyes turned to slips. “You two wouldn’t happen to be trouble?”

Of course they were. How could they be anything else?

Brazenly, and Jaejoong had no idea where it came from, he took a step forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Yoochun. Then he said, “We’re philanthropists, captain. Our business is often considered trouble. You are aware of what a philanthropist is, correct?”

From the corner of his eye Jaejoong could see Yoochun crack a smile.

“And my companion’s offer stand,” Jaejoong pressed ahead, holding the captain’s gaze like a battle on the warfront. “The only question is if you’d like to make an extra fee or not. We can wait for the next transport that suits us, if absolutely necessary. We’re simply in a rush to meet a prearranged engagement and looking for quick passage.” 

The words were flying from his mouth at top speed, pompous and condescending and the kind that would have actually pleased his father. But Jaejoong was terrified of being caught and their time was preciously short.

The captain gave a sudden nod and said, “Alright, the Tohoshinki is your girl. We’ve got clearance to leave in about ten minutes. If that’s all the luggage you have, come on up and get yourselves situated. We’ll get to the logistics after takeoff.”

The captain turned and strode up the distended ramp easily, powerful thighs pumping his long legs in a way that made Jaejoong very appreciative for the sight. The captain was exceedingly attractive and Jaejoong tried not to let the fact distract him.

“Wait,” Jaejoong said, catching Yoochun the second he made to move after the captain. “We don’t have any papers. What is he going to do to us when he finds we don’t have any papers?”

Yoochun rolled his eyes and assured, “Papers are for the less savory kinds of folk from backwater poor planets trying to access places like Helios. No one will ask for our papers to leave, and if they do, I might be able to pull something up for us. It depends. Now come on, and don’t worry. We’re going to be okay.”

The inside of the Tohoshinki was better than Jaejoong had expected. The space of the loading area was clearly meant to hold cargo, but it was mainly empty now, aside from Jaejoong’s luggage and a few other pieces belonging to other people.

He and Yoochun crowded in a bit nervously as the ramp pulled up behind them and they were cut off from the outside world. 

“Right through there,” the captain called out suddenly, startling Jaejoong. He was standing up on a high walkway looking pleased as punch that he’d managed the reaction from Jaejoong, and he was pointing at a room down the way. “Strap in. We’re starting our preflight run. We’ll be in the air shortly and I’d hate to see you splatter to the ceiling before I can get my credits from you.”

Jaejoong shot him a contempt look and followed after Yoochun.

“Liftoff is going to be a little rough,” Yoochun remarked when they were in their seats, pulling harnesses across their chests. Jaejoong let Yoochun, who seemed to be more familiar with the strap arrangement, double check his own. “The Mako class ships are always rough until they hit atmo. It’s going to feel like she’ll shake apart, but I promise you--”

“We’ll be fine,” Jaejoong finished for him. He paused and frowned. “How do you know so much? About these hips and the kinds of crew who fly them?” As far as he knew Yoochun was just an indentured servant, and one who’d spent nearly all his time indoors, scrubbing floors and serving people. 

Something indescribably odd flashed across Yoochun’s face and Jaejoong had a sinking suspicion that he didn’t know his friend half as well as he believed he did.

Before Yoochun could deliver an adequate answer the ship was shaking. And gods it did feel like the whole place as going to fall apart. Further inside the ship something rattled loudly and things clanged about.

“We’re cleared for liftoff,” a soothing voice crackled over the ship’s intercom. “Onew? How are we looking down there?”

The intercom snapped back with a distinct and wonderful voice, “All systems go, Kyu. Get us out of here before Mi tries to buy another pair of spotted leather pants.”

“Here we go,” Yoochun said, closing his head and tipping his head back.

Jaejoong felt his stomach bottom out. This was it. This was him leaving everything he had ever known behind. This was him abandoning his patients at the hospital, his precious baby sister, and a life he had spent over a decade crafting for himself.

For freedom. For something he’d lusted after for since he’d been old enough to grasp what it was. 

But instead of liftoff there was an odd, uncertain calm that settled over the ship. It hissed, squeaked and was most certainly not in the air.

“Hold tight,” the first voice said once more over the intercom. “We’re being flagged by the comm deck. Priority level. Sorry. I don’t think we’re going anywhere right now.”

Another voice called out, echoing through the ship, “Leeteuk, I need you up here on the bridge immediately.” It was the captain’s voice.

Frightened and short of breath, Jaejoong turned to Yoochun and demanded, “Do you think it’s my father? Do you think we’ve been caught?”

The distinct sound of the ramp lowering and the clattering of footsteps on metal stairs filled Jaejoong’s mind until he couldn’t take it any longer and he was fumbling his harness. He had it off a second later, and before Yoochun could reach for him, he was on his way to see what was holding them up.

“Jaejoong!” Yoochun shouted after him, too slow to keep up.

Jaejoong caught himself on a nearby railing and was in a perfect place to see the flattering backside of the captain as he stood in front of the ramp distending, his hands on his gunbelt like it was possible he expected trouble.

Then Jaejoong saw the first of a half dozen Alliance soldiers pile into the ship, and he knew they’d been found out. Their escape was over before it had begun. And like so many times before, the elusive moment of freedom slipped through his pale fingers once more.


	3. Three: Yunho

When the order had come in to shut down their engines, lower their ramp, and wait for further instructions, Yunho had been chatting lazily with Kyuhyun. He’d been breaking the news to him that it was possible their two new passengers were about to pay a king’s small ransom for the trip that should have cost them almost nothing. It was practically highway robbery, but Yunho had been looking for a few extra credits to float Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi’s way as wedding gift, and maybe a great sum of credits would buy them a way into Choi Siwon’s party that they hadn’t considered before.

Mostly he was trying to distract himself from how things had gone with Changmin. 

If there was anything Yunho regretted in the past few years, it was the moment his brother had thought he considered Changmin an average whore. The realization had struck Yunho in the gut, wounded him, and made him feel like the lowest form of scum. His brother was beautiful and strong and better than what Yunho had asked of him. He’d been wrong, and he’d make it up to Changmin.

“They’re flagging us?” Kyuhyun had asked, confusion lacing his voice. “What the hell!”

“Be calm,” Yunho commanded, pulling out of his harness and standing to flip a switch.

A drone voice flooded the cockpit,”--Mako Class B, Registration Number 4-5-7-2-0-0-0-2-1-7, power down your engines and lower your ramp.”

Kyuhyun spun in his seat, a scowl on his face. “What’s going on? I didn’t think anyone hated us on Helios. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho said earnestly, but felt a tension headache growing quickly. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done to piss someone off on Helios, but it was absolutely the last thing he wanted. Being flagged on a posh planet like Helios, but more importantly where Changmin lived, was going to be a future issue. And he hadn’t even done anything to deserve it this time.

“We really going to let them on the ship?” Kyuhyun asked, brown hair mucked up everywhere as proof that he’d been strolling the windy streets of Helios hours earlier. “We passed inspection when we arrived, and this is bullshit.”

Yunho reached for the comm and relayed to the tower, “We’re powering down our engines right now. Ramp to follow. Stand by.” He gave Kyuhyun a deliberate look. “You don’t even think about ignoring our orders. This isn’t any regular space port. There’s an Alliance cruiser in orbit right now and that’s the kind of trouble we can’t afford to have.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Kyuhyun protested childishly. “Wasn’t even thinking about it.”

There were times when Yunho knew Kyuhyun was too young to be their pilot. At nineteen he was still too rebellious and eager to push the limits. He hardly ever thought before acting, was impatient and rash and … really just a teenager. But he was also the best pilot Yunho had ever met in his life. Kyuhyun had been better at fifteen, when Yunho had taken him on, than Yunho would ever be no matter how long he trained and practiced. Kyuhyun had wicked fast reflexes, sharp eyes and an ability to feel the ship out for exactly what she needed. There was no getting rid of Kyuhyun now, no matter how reckless he got.

Mostly though, because if he got rid of Kyuhyun, he’d also lose Zhou Mi. 

That was why Yunho didn’t like his crew marrying each other. 

Even if they were terribly cute together, and Zhou Mi actually kept Kyuhyun in line.

Yunho questioned, “You didn’t get into any trouble while I was gone, did you?”

Kyuhyun snorted and slammed his hand down on the ramp release. “I bought three hundred credits worth of wine, a bottle of lube, and Mi’s birthday present. Would you like to make a trip by my bunk and verify that?”

“You’re such a punk, Kyuhyun,” Yunho said, but he felt nothing but affection. He pressed a kiss to the top of the younger man’s head and said, “Stay here. Unless some Alliance asshole drags you out of this cockpit, you stay here.” He called for Leeteuk and then made to face whatever new problem existed to make his life difficult.

As the ramp lowered, a row of Alliance men standing in front of him, Yunho could just see one of their new passengers standing at the railing, ashen in color and looking like he might pass out or something else dramatic.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Yunho called out to him.

“I wish people would stop saying that,” the man said back, and Yunho realized he hadn’t even gotten the man’s name.

The insanely attractive, perfectly built, and quick witted man. The kind of man that Yunho found himself impulsively drawn too, sans the elitist attitude.

Of course Yunho had a strict policy of not sleeping with his cargo, which was what the man essentially was to him. But to Yunho that didn’t mean he couldn’t look and appreciate.

As the soldiers came piling in he realized they were carrying trunks with them, each one taking two men to heft up on the ship. They were grunting and looking extremely unhappy, and Yunho thought it was all a bit mind numbing. Alliance soldiers liked to pinch items from his ship. This was the first time they’d brought him things.

“Just what in the hell is this?” Yunho demanded, counting the trunks six … seven … eight.

“Captain, I presume?”

Cutting through the soldiers like butter was a tall, impeccably dressed man, an anxious look on his handsome face, but no hesitation in the way he strode forward.

Behind Yunho, Leeteuk clattered down the steps at a frantic pace, and Zhou Mi wasn’t far behind him, the kind of added presence that Yunho hadn’t known he wanted until now.

“Jung Yunho?”

“That’s me,” Yunho said, cocking a hip. “And I want to know what you think you’re bringing onto my ship. We cleared inspection and we have our fly rights. Who are you to--”

“I’m Choi Minho,” the man said right away, then gestured to the trunks, “and these are your brother’s.”

Yunho paused, feeling the stares of Leeteuk and Zhou Mi drilling into the back of his head. His crew was always understanding when it came to Changmin, but they had no way of knowing right now that Yunho was in the dark as much as them.

“My brother’s,” Yunho parroted slowly. “And what exactly would my brother’s things be doing on this ship?”

“You might ask him yourself,” Minho said, openly sizing Yunho up. “You’re not quite what I expected. Not for a veritable space pirate.”

The realization of who Minho was smashed into Yunho like a locomotive.

Choi Minho. The man his brother loved and planned to marry.

Then, as if on cue, Changmin came strolling up the ramp, a little flushed in the face from the cold, but dressed warmly and looking particularly well. Yunho watched something pass between Minho and Changmin, something probably akin to love, and Yunho resolved to give Minho a chance. 

Even if he was the Magistrate’s son and probably thought he was better than other people. 

The higher classes almost always did.

“Changmin?” Yunho asked, feeling utterly confused.

“Right,” Changmin said, running a hand through his hair. “Yunho, this is Choi Minho. The next time you visit this planet it’ll likely be for our wedding, so please do your very best to not piss off the man I love. And Minho, this is my brother who gets into way too much trouble but I love him all the same, so please make an extra effort to be nice to him even when he inevitably pisses you off.”

The last of the Alliance soldiers delivered Changmin’s things to the ship and clamored away, leaving them in relative peace.

Yunho felt himself go a little hoarse as he asked, “Changmin, what’s going on? What is all this?”

Changmin gave an encouraging smile as Minho said, “All official paperwork has been forwarded to you, Captain, indicating that Companion Shim is now traveling with this vessel. It was a bit of a rush job, truthfully, but it’s legitimate and you’ll have no trouble if you come across someone who wants to double check.”

Slowly and deliberately Yunho asked Changmin, “You’re traveling with us?”

Changmin had never, not once, traveled with the crew. Changmin had traveled frequently with other ships, for work and for the rare vacation he took, but he’d never been on Yunho’s ship. There were a lot of thing Yunho wanted to share with him, and do with him, and experience with him, but pulling Changmin along for a job was not one of them. No, whenever Yunho came to visit, and his brother was available to meet him, they and the crew spent time on Helios, or one of its moons.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “I trust you have appropriate accommodations for a Companion.”

“You …” Yunho felt confounded. Changmin had said no. He’d said he was retired and not providing any services, mainly because of the man standing next to them. So why was he on Yunho’s ship? Why was Minho presenting him?

“You’re heading towards New Haven’t, aren’t you?” Changmin asked, the tightness to his voice indicating he’d give nothing away even to Minho. That kind of loyalty was something Yunho had never doubted. 

When Yunho didn’t answer right away, it was Leeteuk who cut in, “We’ve got business near there.” He gave Changmin a wink, but it was to be expected. Changmin, like Kyuhyun, was almost always treated like a shared younger brother.

“I’ve taken a client on New Haven,” Changmin said breezily, turning away to count the amount of trunks now surrounding them. “I’ll need you to take me to the planet as quickly as you can, I’ve an engagement at Lord Choi Siwon’s birthday gala. Do you think you can manage that?”

Yunho gave him a toothy smile. “You know the Tohoshinki is more than capable of getting you there as fast as you need.”

“Your brother is coming with us?” Zhou Mi asked extremely quietly at Yunho’s side as Changmin and Minho said their goodbyes. “Really?”

Yunho watched Changmin draw his arms around Minho for a tight hug, one that conveyed everything Yunho needed to know, considering his brother wasn’t overly affectionate. Even Yunho couldn’t deny the way Changmin looked at Minho, and touched him now. It was obvious Changmin loved him. And, despite Minho being the magistrate’s son, they appeared to be a good match. 

It was easy to figure out that Changmin had decided to come after them at the last moment, and only the magistrate’s son had enough sway to get their ship held up moments before liftoff. Minho had done this for Changmin, and it wasn’t a small favor either.

Yunho was bought out of his thoughts as Minho crossed up the ramp to stand in front of him, hand held out. “You’ll take exceptional care of Changmin while he’s here? You won’t let anything happen to him?”

Feeling a little put out, Yunho said gruffly, “He’s my brother.” Yunho clasped his hand tightly.

“Yes,” Minho agreed, “but you’re not the only one who loves him now. So be extra careful. I want to like my brother-in-law, and it’ll be very difficult for me to do if Changmin comes back with even a scratch on him.”

Changmin gave them each a pinch as he passed by, demanding, “Stop acting like this, you two. Now, where’s Kyu?”

As Changmin climbed the nearby stairs, Yunho told Minho softly, “Not a scratch.”

Minho grinned a perfect smile. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

Yunho sort of liked Minho. Against all odds, he sort of liked him.

“Get these strapped down,” Yunho told Leeteuk, gesturing at the trunks. “We’re getting out of here now, before anyone else decides to order us around so they can dump a bunch of things on my ship. ETA to atmo is five minutes.”

Yunho scaled his way back to the bridge quickly, and before he even reached the section he could hear Kyuhyun and Changmin chattering happily with each other.

That didn’t bode well.

Whenever the two of them were together, unsupervised, something usually blew up.

Yunho wished he was exaggerating when he told people that.

“Changmin,” Yunho called out, snagging his arm and pulling him away from Kyuhyun. “What are you doing here? I thought you told me you’re retired? You said this wasn’t possible.”

Kyuhyun swiveled to ask, “Should I get our engines up and running again?”

Yunho nodded. “Fast as you can, Kyu.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I was retiring,” Changmin relayed as they crossed the ship, Yunho leading him to the area where Changmin would be safe for liftoff. Naturally he could have put Changmin in with the ship’s two new passengers, but there was something about them that made his skin itch. There was a lie floating in the air, though Yunho wasn’t sure what it was, and until he figured it out, he’d take no chances with his brother. They’d stay separate from Changmin, at least for the moment.

“Then what changed?”

“Minho,” Changming shrugged. “I told him that you’d asked this favor of me, to take a client near New Haven so that you’d be able to do business of your own. And no, I didn’t say what that business was.”

Yunho gave him a tight lipped look. “I never thought for a second you did.”

The engines came to life beneath their feet, the ship rocking and vibrating, humming in a way that Yunho now needed to fall asleep.

“He told me,” Changmin said, “that if we don’t make scarifies for our family, and truly consider the favors they ask when they’re asked genuinely, then what business do we have calling them family? Make no mistake, Yunho, I am retiring. I’m marrying Minho and that’s that. However, for you, because you’ve never really asked anything of me before, and certainly not something like this, I’ll do it. In fact I’ve already accepted Siwon’s invitation.”

Changmin slid into a seat and buckled himself in.

“We’re all locked down and ready to go,” Leeteuk said, head ducking into the lounge area. “You heading up to the bridge, or should I?”

It wasn’t even really a choice to Yunho. “You go,” he said. “I’ll be there when we clear atmo. Oh, but remind Kyuhyun we’re heading to the Moon Hub. That’s where we’re dropping our passengers off.”

Leeteuk gave him a thumbs up and disappeared.

“Passengers,” Changmin asked, looking a little excited. “That’s new. You don’t usually take on passengers.”

Yunho sighed. “That’s because I’ve been burned by passengers in the past, and they never tell the truth.”

The shaking of the ship intensified as Kyuhyun called for them to brace for liftoff.

“So why did you? Is one of them cute?” Changmin teased.

“Brat.” Yunho grinned. It was wonderful to be back with his brother. “If you must know, it’s because they offered to pay double for about half the effort on our part. All they wanted was to go to the Moon Hub. They said they were simply looking for quick passage off the planet, but who knows. Three days from now they’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“The Moon Hub?” Changmin asked. “I’ve never been near there.”

The extra thrusters kicked in and Yunho felt his teeth chatter. “That’s because it’s practically a space brothel built into a port. It might attempt to look high class because it’s closer to the Core than the Rim, but it’s dangerous and you won’t be getting off this ship when we dock there even for a second. There are people who’d snatch you in a second, regardless of you being a Companion, because you’re beautiful. It’s more than dangerous and I’m being serious here. I don’t want to have to kill someone because they touch you.”

Changmin genuinely asked him, “Doesn’t the overprotective routine get old?”

“You would think.” Yunho said, and it was the last thing he managed before they were tearing out of the port, the ship thundering like a storm in the sky, launching them up into space.

They cleared atmo twenty seconds later and the shaking subsided but didn’t relinquish completely. It would be a couple more minutes before it was safe for them to leave their seats.

“If it’s so dangerous there,” Changmin said, starting their conversation back up, “why are you dropping your passengers off there? They’re from Helios. They may not be equipped to deal with a situation that dangerous.”

“That’s not my problem,” Yunho said, but the truth was the notion had crossed his mind more than once since accepting their deal for passage. “I just take my passengers where they want to go, Minnie. I’m sure they wouldn’t go there unless they were prepared for it.” 

But how would they fare? Maybe the shorter of the two, the more stocky and built one, would be okay. He could pass as a day laborer, or gun for hire. He was less likely to vanish into thin air. But the pretty one? He was as good as lost. The vultures would see him coming a mile away, credits in their eyes, and he’d end up a casualty. 

But they’d said the Moon Hub. That was what they wanted. So Yunho was going to deliver them.

Yunho cleared his throat. “So Siwon just up and took your proposal that you’d make a weekend of his … what did you call it? Birthday gala?”

Changmin shrugged. “The truth is, I sent the message out and had my response in under five minutes. He agreed to pay exceedingly high for my last second company, and even agreed, would you believe, to allow me to have my two associates accompany me down to the planet for extra protection.”

“Two?” Yunho’s mind whirled. “Wait … protection?”

Changmin was so slick he was scary at times. “Of course my protection, Yunho. After all, I’m a highly desirable companion traveling into deep space. I should have associates to protect my interests. Anyway, I would have asked for five or six if it thought he’d agree to it, but two is what you’ll get. You and another man on the ground to poke around while I distract Siwon.”

“You’re really doing this for me,” Yunho said, barely able to believe it.

“I am,” Changmin said with a nod. “But Yunho, do you know what kind of man Siwon is?”

There was something dark that had settled on Changmin’s face that worried Yunho to no avail. 

He offered, “Eldest son in a family with more bastards than legitimate children. Practically a king among princes, and a man who has a strong preference to slight, brown haired boys. What are you eluding to, Changmin? I know about the business his father runs, practically controlling all the fuel cell production for the entire area, and the wealth Siwon stands to inherit is greater than the whole of the Alliance on a very good day.”

Yunho’s eyes jutted down to where he could see Changmin’s hands wringing together. His brother was nervous about something. There was something he wasn’t saying.

“Minnie, tell me what it is.”

“Later,” Changmin promised, a forced smile spreading across his face. “I promise. When I get settled in. You do have room for me, right?”

When they’d been very little, before Yunho had been big enough to get work, and before Changmin had been spirited away by the Companion Guild, they’d slept on a single cot together in a cramped orphanage filled with mean and desperate children. Yunho had spent countless cold nights wrapping Changmin up in his arms, trying to share his body heat, convinced that as long as he had his brother, he didn’t need anything else.

Personal space hadn’t been a concept back then.

But Changmin was a Companion now. He was used to having the finest things, sleeping on silken sheets, and more than anything else, accustomed to personal space.

“I’ve got room for you,” Yunho assured him. “Well,” he laughed out, “you and a couple of your trunks. How many did you bring? Seven? Eight? What’s in all those?”

Finally the ship smoothed out. There was a bit of a rattle still, something that was more of an expectance than anything else to Yunho, but it meant that they were gliding through space now, and liftoff had been a success. 

They always knew when something had gone wrong.

“Clothing,” Changmin said easily. “And some supplies. Personal items. Things that I’ll need to complete my work. But mostly clothing.”

Yunho deadpanned, “We’re going to be on the planet for less than a day. And it only takes six to get there. How can you need eight trunks worth of clothing?”

Changmin unbuckled himself and stood, stretching his arms out. “You really don’t know anything about Companions, do you?”

Honestly Yunho didn’t. It was a profession, despite Changmin’s involvement, that held little interest for Yunho. He wasn’t inclined to seek out the services of Companions, and he certainly didn’t ask Changmin about any of his business. But what he did know amounted to what even small children knew. Companions were damn near treated like royalty. They chose their own clients. They were highly skilled in self defense, music, mathematics, languages and methods of seduction. While a portion of their profit went directly back to the guild, they were often very wealthy, and more than anything else, Companions were able to leave their chosen profession at any time, for any reason.

Like Changmin leaving to marry Minho.

Minho, who was the magistrate’s son was likely very wealthy in his own right, would still be bringing less to the marriage than Changmin. But Yunho was just glad Changmin had chosen to marry for love, and nothing else.

Yunho pulled himself to his feet and took a deep breath of recycled, cool air. “I’ll see about getting Leeteuk and Zhou Mi to move your belongings, at last some of them, to one of the spare rooms. For now you stay here. Kitchen’s through there, help yourself to whatever you want.”

Changmin glanced around. “Where’s Ryeowook? Isn’t that kind of his domain?”

“Normally,” Yunho said, trying not to let anything show on his face. “But he’s been down in the bowels of the ship with Onew a lot lately. I think Onew’s trying to train him up on how to work her, but honestly you know as well as me, Changmin, that either she talks to you or she doesn’t. Onew can hear her. I don’t think Ryeowook can.”

If they lost Onew, and every day felt closer to the moment, who would they have for a mechanic? Picking one up from a port was seemingly an easy thing, there were always mechanics for hire. But not all mechanics were created equal, and some were more likely to run them into the ground than keep them up in the air. Onew, like Kyuhyun, was one in a million, maybe a billion, and not so easily replaced.

But Yunho could see the cracks in Onew, ever since Joon’s death. He could see the tiny fissures spreading out, growing by the day, bringing Onew closer and closer to giving up and giving in.

Yunho also knew that Joon’s mother had sent Onew more than one message, inviting him to come and stay with her. Before long Yunho suspected Onew would take her up on the offer.

“I’ll come see you later,” Yunho said, inching his way to the doorframe. “I just have to go check on a few things.”

“Go,” Changmin laughed out. “I am fully capable of taking care of myself, Yunho, and entertaining myself for a short while as well. You’re the captain. Go do captain things.”

Yunho gave him a firm nod and a huge smile, then stepped out of the room.

It was a little odd having Changmin on the ship, almost like he was out of place, until Yunho looked back just once, watching the way Changmin seemingly floated around the room, hands ghosting over the pictures on the wall, the small tokens of their visits to other planets, and everything in the room that gave it life and proved it was lived in.

Then having Changmin with him, by his side as a brother should be, didn’t feel odd at all. It just felt right.

Yunho was almost all the way back to the bridge when he heard a voice calling for him.

It was the pretty one, of course, but he was without the other one who seemed permanently attached to his side. And he was making his way to Yunho lightening fast, a look of determination on his face.

“Can I help you?” Yunho eased out.

And gods above, the boy was very pretty. He’d shed the white, fur coat that he’d been wearing earlier, an article of clothing alone that could have bought the ship enough fuel cells to fly halfway to the Moon Hub at fair market price. Now he wore fitted, sinfully flattering black slacks, a white dinner shirt, stripped vest, and cufflinks that looked to be precious in value as well. He made for a picture of lithe beauty, the kind that Yunho was naturally attracted to, and that compelled a certain sense of protectiveness in him.

Not that this boy, whoever he was, was due any sort of protection. Yunho quickly reminded himself, not all pretty boys were charity cases, and not all of them needed a hero. Most of them could be villains, if pushed, just like anyone else.

“The hold at departure,” the man said. “What was it?”

“Not your problem,” Yunho said shortly, suddenly feeling very tired. He’d had intermittent sleep at best over the past few days, and worries were piling atop him faster than he could shoulder them to the side. He was looking forward to resting, now that he knew Kyuhyun had the bridge, with more than enough fuel to get them to their next stop, and Changmin was safely on board to do them a huge favor that might finally change the tides in Yunho’s hunt for the Eye.

Sometimes he pondered as to whether his crew actually believed it existed. Maybe Kyuhyun did, because he liked adventure and exciting stories and taking leaps of faith. Maybe even Leeteuk who was always game for a good treasure hunt. But the others? If Yunho had to put money on it, he’d guess that most of them stuck with him because he was a fair captain, not cruel or overly demanding, and no matter how hard he looked for the Eye and proof of it, he still brought them more than enough jobs to keep the ship running and just enough spending credits in their pockets. 

“There were Alliance soldiers in your cargo bay, Captain,” the man opposite him said, nose a little too high in the air for Yunho’s tastes, and sounding far too upperclass to be actually wanting to go towards the Rim planets. “Is there something my associate and I should know about?”

Yunho crossed his arms and gave the boy a definitive leer, maybe just to see the pretty blush that spread across his soft features. “I’ll repeat, that really wasn’t any of your business. But if you absolutely must know, or think yourself entitled to the information, the reason we were held up was because we took on a last second passenger. A high priority passenger.”

The blush was gone in an instance. “High priority? Like a government official? Or a--”

“Companion,” Yunho finished for him. “We took on a Companion, actually. You’ll meet him at the next meal that we have together. He’s … nice,” Yunho finished. Changmin was nice. Nicer than Yunho. 

The boy frowned. “You know this Companion?” The look of interest was written all over his face and he was even more attractive when he wasn’t trying to act as if their stations in life were leagues apart. “I’ve always wanted to meet one. My father would often call upon…” he trailed off, eyes adverting.

“Who are you?” Yunho questioned, tired of not knowing his name. In truth the only thing that mattered was that he could pay for the trip, but on the off chance that Yunho ended up dreaming about his beautiful face, a name was a nice additive.

The boy hesitated too long. Without his friend there to feed Yunho the lies, words that Yunho was now certain were lies, he took too long coming up with his own explanations. And by the time he did speak, Yunho was already determined to figure him out.

“My friends call me Hero.” he said, head ducking down a little in an embarrassed way that told Yunho at least that much wasn’t a lie. “I know, it’s pretty cheesy, but it’s always just stuck with me, ever since I was in school.”

“Hero,” Yunho tested out. “And your associate’s name?”

“Micky,” Hero replied, this time much more confidently. “I’ve called him that since we were kids. Everyone else who knows him well calls him that from time to time.”

Yunho leaned a heavy hand on his gun belt. “You can call me just Captain, or Captain Yunho if you prefer. And I’ll let you know right now that as long as you’re on my ship, you can sleep soundly at night. No one here will hurt you, or enter your room without permission.”

Hero looked at him oddly. “Thank you, but I wasn’t particularly worried about that.”

“No?” Yunho shrugged. “I suppose you wouldn’t be. I expect while you sleep your servant will sit up with his back to the door, guarding you from each and every person on this ship, who I assure you he sees as a possible threat.”

“Micky isn’t … he’s not …”

“It was evident in the way he looked to you for the lead while we were talking. Even though he was doing the majority of the negotiation, he constantly looked to you for assurance. That’s the sort of thing that gets beat into a person. And his grip on your luggage? He’d sooner lose his life than lose it. I’d bet the Tohoshinki that you hold his life contract, don’t you?”

Hero took a deliberate step backwards. “I think I’d better get back to my cabin. Micky will be worried.”

“Worried that you’ll say something you’re not supposed to?”

Hero shook his head. “No, Captain, we’re just--”

“Look,” Yunho exhaled loudly. “I don’t care if you want to try and convince me that’s your servant or not. Though you should know a man doesn’t survive a week in this business unless he learns how to spot lies in his sleep. So I don’t know why you’re bothering to lie to me in the first place, but that’s your business. As long as your business doesn’t hurt me and mine, we’re fine. Understand?”

Hero gave a shallow nod.

“Does your business run the risk of hurting me and mine?”

This time he shook his head.

The paleness to Hero’s face made him look young. Too young.

“How old are you?” Yunho questioned. If he was underage …

“Old enough to travel on my own, Captain,” Hero said a little snappishly, hands tucking behind his back. “I turned twenty-four this year. You have nothing to worry about. You’re not smuggling children into a den of lions.”

At the phrasing Yunho’s head cocked. “Then you understand where you’re heading? Where your servant is taking you? It’s not a place for pretty little boys like you.” Yunho hated that he was getting more worried by the second.

Fiery defiance lit in Hero’s eyes. “Earlier you explained to me, Captain Yunho, that certain things are not my business, so I’ll return the favor to you. Yes, I know that the Moon Hub is full of undesirables, but my servant, as you’ve labeled him, is certain we can procure adequate transport in the direction we want to go, and I trust him. I trust him with my life. Therefore I ask, is your curiosity sated?”

Yunho leveled at him, “If you go missing there, they’ll charge clients extra to have at you. You’re clearly well bred and educated on top of being attractive. You won’t see the outside of a bedroom for the rest of your life.”

A new voice thundered, “That’s enough.”

“Ah,” Yunho eased out. “Here’s your servant now.”

Hero straightened up as his associate, Micky, came to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. “Captain,” the man said, anger lacing his words, “I’ll ask you not to needlessly forget yourself and your words. I’m more than capable of navigating the Moon Hub, and Hero will be perfectly safe with me. Your concern is misplaced if you think it’s required.”

Tilting a little as he assessed them, Yunho pried, “Philanthropists, you said?”

Micky challenged back, “Hero, as you so eloquently stated earlier, is well bred. He’s not merely educated, but highly so, and yes, we’re philanthropists. We aim to share everything from water filtration techniques with the recent terraformers on the Rim planets, to basic education. That’s what you really want to know, isn’t it? You want to know what well bred gentlemen might be seeking the rim for.”

“Not you,” Yunho told him evenly.

“Not me?”

Yunho nodded. “You’re not a gentleman, no matter how well you play the part or what nice home you came from.”

Nostrils flaring, Micky took Hero by the elbow and said, “For the next three days we will remain in our quarters. I can rest assured, yes, that you’ll let us know when we can disembark at the Moon Hub?”

“Indeed,” Yunho said, feeling his blood pressure spike. “I’ll let you take your leave then.”

They were gone faster than either had arrived, and Yunho wasn’t sure how long he stood in the empty hallway, feeling the vibrations of the engine under his feet, letting the air chill his skin. 

The more aggressive one, he was a problem. There was far more to him than there appeared, and he was a possible threat.

But the other … Hero.

Maybe learning his name was a mistake.

Because the way his eyes had come alive during their conversation, both through anger and joy, had stirred something in Yunho. Hero had made him feel more in those brief moments than anyone else had in years. 

“Yunho? Captain?”

Yunho turned to see Zhou Mi behind him, a questioning expression on his face. 

“Mi,” Yunho greeted, forcing himself to grin. “Did Kyuhyun send you to beg out of the night shift?”

Zhou Mi gave a faint nod. “Something about a purchase he made today at the market?”

Yunho felt himself flush. Ah, the lube. “Go,” he said, cracking a smile that was more full of warmth than anything else. “And sleep in, okay? I’ll take the helm.”

Appreciation was conveyed in the way Zhou Mi dipped respectfully, then all but scurried away.

Before running into Hero, Yunho had honestly been looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping for at least a day. But now he had too much on the brain, and a long, lonely shift on the bridge seemed absolutely perfect. At the very least it would serve as an adequate distraction. 

He couldn’t let himself get sidetracked.

Changmin. The Eye. Choi Siwon.

These were the only things that mattered. Not some high born boy who thought he could do a bit of good in the world and would end up some bed slave or worse. No, the boy didn’t matter one bit.

No matter how striking he was.


	4. Four: Kyuhyun

Not every cabin on the ship featured a window to gaze out at the stars through. In fact, most of them were towards the center of the ship, in more protected areas, and certainly any passengers they took on stayed in those rooms. But Kyuhyun, who liked to claim he had stardust running through his veins, he could hardly sleep without being able to look up at any time to the magnificent glowing specks of helium and hydrogen.

To Kyuhyun, the luminous objects were a night light of sorts. The only kind that could sooth him at times.

Next to him on the bed, Zhou Mi fidgeted and Kyuhyun kept even more still than usual.

It was a high task to ask. Kyuhyun felt endlessly fidgety most of the time. It was a wonder he could manage to stay still in the pilot’s seat for hours at a time. Though maybe it had more to do with the amount of focus necessary to keep everyone on the ship alive, especially knowing that Zhou Mi was part of that number.

Kyuhyun settled his hands on his stomach carefully, laced his fingers, and stared up at the stars. He could feel Zhou Mi’s hot breath on his shoulder, and his naked thigh pressing against Kyuhyun’s own. But Kyuhyun was determined to let him sleep through the night for once. Zhou Mi could be as restless as him at times, waking several times through the night, almost obsessively roaming the ship, seeking out imaginary threats, returning to bed only when Kyuhyun forced his hand.

And now, with Changmin on board, and the plan to infiltrate Choi Siwon’s birthday gala a go, Zhou Mi needed as much rest as possible for the coming days. It was hard to say who Yunho would pick to sneak down onto the planet with him, but it would either be Leeteuk or Zhou Mi.

Kyuhyun had a notion that it would end up being Zhou Mi. There was no mistaking the fact that Leeteuk was the Captain’s right hand man. Leeteuk was trusted the most out of all of them, and the captain usually took him along for the more dangerous jobs they pulled. But this mission with Siwon, it was going to be different. It was certainly going to be the most dangerous thing they’d ever done, and as loathe as Yunho and Leetheuk probably were to admit it, Zhou Mi was the better shot. And Leeteuk knew almost as much about the ship as Yunho. If something happened to the Captain, Leeteuk could keep them going.

To Kyuhyun, Leeteuk was like a big brother. Maybe even more than Yunho. Leeteuk was almost motherish in his care for the crew, and if not for Leeteuk, Yunho wouldn’t have taken a chance on him. Kyuhyun wouldn’t have made it three steps onto the ship without Leeteuk. Kyuhyun felt indebted to Leeteuk.

If Kyuhyun hadn’t been hired on as the Tohoshinki’s pilot four years prior, he probably would have ended up on a transport to a farming settlement like the one on Hermes. Hermes had been hit by Reavers three years ago. So technically, Leeteuk was responsible for Kyhyun still breathing, and not being torn to pieces.

Kyuhyun was just starting to drift back off to sleep, the stars lulling him into a sense of serenity, when the ship gave an unnatural shudder. 

The odd sensation had Kyuhyun sitting straight up in his bunk, dislodging Zhou Mi a little, but thankfully not waking him.

To most everyone on the ship, the shudder might not have felt like anything out of the ordinary, maybe even to the Captain, too. But to Kyuhyun, who spent the most time on the ship next to Onew, it was frighteningly obvious that it was a misstep of some sort.

There’d be no getting back to bed now, Kyuhyun knew. The sensation had unsettled him. Even the stars wouldn’t be able to sooth it out. No. He had to trace the root of the problem right away.

With one last look at Zhou Mi’s long form stretched out on their bed, breathing evenly and serenely, Kyuhyun donned his pants from the previous day, one of Zhou Mi’s bigger shirts laying over the back of a chair in the corner of the dark cabin, and ran a few swipes of his fingers through his hair. Then he popped the hatch on the cabin and climbed up to the walkway, listening for the sound of anyone else in the vicinity.

Kyuhyun gripped the railing once he was up on the midlevel deck.

He felt the shudder again.

Bypassing the bridge altogether, where Yunho was probably happy to have a little privacy and silence on an often chaotic ship, Kyuhyun made the long trip to the far side of the ship towards the engine room.

Onew’s domain.

“Onew?” Kyuhyun called out softly, a hand on the doorframe a few seconds later. “You up?”

Onew slept most of the time, despite having an actual cabin, in a hammock deep in the engine room. He often claimed he needed to be near the reactor, just in case, but Kyuhyun had spent enough time on ships to know it had more to do with the hum of the engine than the fear of what could happen in his absence. People who were born on ships, raised on them, or merely spent too much time on them, sometimes found dependency on the sounds the ships made. As a mechanic, Onew seemed no different.

“Onew?”

The engine room was dark, save for the engine’s main reactor casing itself which was lit brightly blue as it pulsed normally. There were also a couple of emergency lights on, but it was hard to see deeper back, and Onew was nowhere to be found.

A shadow moved, Kyuhyun felt a spike of fear, and something clattered to the floor.

“Kyu?”

“Onew, you scared the shit out of me.” Kyuhyun banged a hand down on a nearby panel and sucked in a lungful of air. “What are you doing back there?”

From the darkness emerged Onew, bent a little unnaturally, grease streaked through his hair and on his face, an ion torch in hand.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” Onew asked.

Kyuhyun gave a soft nod. “It was hard to miss.”

Onew arched an eyebrow. “The Captain missed it. He’d have been down here before you, if he felt it.”

Onew looked terrible. It was something of a transformation that had been happening before Kyuhyun’s very eyes for months now, and getting worse every day. It was clear he wasn’t sleeping, his skin too pale and the darkness under his eyes too obvious. And he was even moving slower, curling in on himself like the fight was leaving him. He talked less and less, left the engine room only when necessary, and Kyuhyun had even been surprised he’d disembarked with the rest of them on Helios.

Though he’d had to shop for parts they desperately needed, so maybe it hadn’t been a choice at all.

“What was that?” Kyuhyun asked, wondering why he was suddenly anxious about being alone in the dark with Onew.

Tiredly, Onew said, “The engine is starting to slip. You weren’t on board the last time it happened.”

Kyuhyun pulled back unrepentantly. “Where was I? And what do you mean the engine’s slipping?”

Onew’s eyes flickered down to where the gold band gleamed on Kyuhyun’s finger. It had taken almost three years worth of scrimping and saving and taking extra, sometimes highly illegal work, for Zhou Mi to be afford to put the ring on his finger. Kyuhyun would have married him even without a symbol of their love in the form of gold, but it was so damn pretty Kyuhyun couldn’t help appreciating it at times.

“When Mi and I were at the hot springs on Cobalt,” Kyuhyun answered for him. They’d gotten five glorious, uninterrupted days of good food, sex, and more sex. A honeymoon.

The crew had pulled a simple job in their absence, nearby and without complications. 

Onew said, “This is a Mako Class freighter. I told Yunho this three years ago, the expected life of a freighter like this is sixty-five years without the need for significant retrofits and overhauls. The Tohoshinki is seventy-two, and short of a million credits to overhaul the entire thing, it’s starting to die. The engine slipping is just the beginning. It’ll get worse, much worse, obvious even, and then it’ll die.”

Kyuhyun felt clammy with fear. “But Captain Yunho just gave you ten thousand credits, Onew. You bought ten thousand credits worth of new parts.”

With a sigh, Onew knelt down, arms hugging his knees, rocking slightly. “And six months ago we put fifteen thousand credits worth of new parts into her. The bulk of our pay goes to keeping the ship running, but the cost will soon far exceed our income. New parts won’t keep the engine from slipping.”

Sure, Kyuhyun had known the Tohoshinki was a big dingy. After all, it was evident that she was older, but in terms of ships, that just meant more personality. And she flew smooth as a whistle typically. Not even a slight stiffness in the controls like newer ships developed after only a few short years.

The ship couldn’t be dying. She was, for all intents and purposes, the only home Kyuhyun had ever really known.

“The Captain knows?” Kyuhyun asked, voice shaking.

“He does,” Onew verified. “Maybe that’s why he’s been pushing the Eye so intensely as of late. The kind of payoff it could bring us, either by leading us to the hidden vault, or being sold at fair price, would be enough to buy a whole new ship. A younger ship. And with Changmin here to help, and a solid plan starting to form, it looks like the Captain might just get his wish. With a little more luck, he might get his new ship.”

“Our,” Kyuhyun corrected with a frown. “This is our livelihood, Onew. This is our home. Don’t you feel that way?”

From his spot on the floor, hair obstructing his face, Onew eased out, “I used to.”

“Before,” Kyuhyun offered. “When Joon--”

“--I’m not staying on,” Onew rushed out, standing a bit stiffly. “No matter happens, whether we get a new ship or blow the Choi job completely and end up stranded planet side, I’m leaving.”

It was unfathomable that someone would leave.

“What? Onew?”

How could Onew say such a thing? 

It was … absolutely understandable that he was hurting. He had to be in excruciating pain every day, going through day after agonizing day without the person he loved. Kyuhyun had once stopped to consider putting himself in Onew’s place. After all, Zhou Mi and Joon had both been a part of the Solane job. They’d both been there. It could have been Zhou Mi who died. It could have so easily been him instead of Joon. And Kyuhyun wouldn’t have been okay after. Just like Onew wasn’t now.

But they were family. And for some of them, family was all they had. How could he even be considering such a thing?

“I’ll wait until after we do this job on New Haven,” Onew said, so lifeless and pitiful. “I’ll keep our girl running until then, and pull my weight through the job. But afterwards I’m going. I’m … I’m not myself anymore, Kyuhyun. And I can’t pretend like I am. At least not anymore than I can stand to look at this ship and see him everywhere.”

“We’re your family,” Kyuhyun told him, his voice rising. “You can’t just turn your back on us!”

Onew shook his head. “Gods forbid something happens to Zhou Mi, you’ll understand.”

Viciously Kyuhyun told him, “Don’t you ever say something like that.”

“I’ll tell the Captain shortly,” Onew said, “but I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything to the others just yet. This job is very important for this ship, and not just in terms of money. I don’t want to ruin it for anyone.”

His legs threatening to bow out, Kyhyun had to take a seat on a nearby casing unit. “Onew. I just don’t understand.”

Onew gave him a resolved nod. “I know you don’t, and I’m thankful for that.” He moved to sit next to Kyuhyun, their shoulders bumping. “I won’t leave this ship without a mechanic, Kyuhyun. I would never let something like that happen.”

Kyuhyun questioned, “You think Ryeowook is ready to takeover for you?” He was skeptical that Ryeowook could even get them through a simple liftoff just yet.

“No way,” Onew laughed out, seeming just for a second, like his old self. “He’s a sweet kid, you know. But he’s no mechanic and he knows it. He’s just been trying to help me out and lessen my load a little. And I think he gets bored on the ship. Twice a day he makes the meals, and he’s a glorified accountant the rest of the time, keeping track of our expenditures, but that leaves more time for boredom than you’d think.”

“Then what is this ship going to do for a mechanic?”

Onew held up two fingers. “I worked it out about a week ago.”

Which meant, by Kyuhyun’s account, Onew had been planning to leave them for much longer.

“What’s with the fingers?”

Onew wiggled them. “I got you two for the price of one. Quite literally. This time next year, hopefully with a brand new ship, you’ll have the twins down here.”

“The twins?” Kyuhyun asked, blinking madly in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding. No way.”

“Yes way,” Onew said, bumping his shoulder into Kyuhyun’s. “They finished up their stint on Orion, pulled a job near Ariel, and they’re looking to lay low for a while. They’ve heard good things about Yunho and the rest of you, and they know they won’t get screwed over if they decide to fly with the crew. They’ll probably only stay for a year or two, but they’re hard working, good at what they do, and they won’t make trouble. I would only get someone I trust to take my place with this ship, Kyuhyun. Please believe that.”

The twins. Unbelievable.

In terms of infamy, the twins had it. They were quite well known in the circles that Kyuhyun and the crew ran in, and they had recent reputations as not being completely impossible to work with. Well liked and well respected, they liked to take risks, had honed, invaluable skills even outside being terribly efficient mechanics, and were ballsy enough to skirt the line with the Alliance.

“The twins are willing to sign on with a fringe ship like this?”

“They think they got identified on their last job. That means nothing high profile for them for a while, until the heat dies down. So maybe they don’t particularly want to spend the next year hiding in some freighter’s bowels, but they know if they do, and they pick a ship like this with a crew who’ll keep their mouths shut, they’ll survive long enough to get back in the game.”

The twins. Who’d of thought.

But honestly, Kyuhyun was sort of anxious to see them, and to get to work with them. And the first thing he’d ask them would be why they were called the twins, when they certainly weren’t. Many had asked before, no one had ever gotten an answer. But Kyuhyun had never been denied before, and he didn’t think the twins had the fortitude to be the first to refuse him.

Onew patted Kyuhyun’s knee fondly and said, “Get back to bed, okay? It’s still late and you can cram a few hours in before you have to head to the bridge.”

“Are you sleeping at all?” Kyuhyun shot back.

“When I sleep I dream,” Onew said by way of an answer. “Now get going. Isn’t your husband missing you by now?”

Kyuhyun stood and said, “I still don’t want you to leave, Onew. Family doesn’t leave family, even when things get hard.”

“Me leaving doesn’t mean I won’t love you anymore,” Onew said, and Kyuhyun wondered if that’s really what he’d been scared of. Onew wasn’t typically so good at reading people.

“Changmin is going to be at breakfast,” Kyuhyun said, inching his way back towards the hallway. “I haven’t seen him in a while, but it’s been even longer for you, so try to be there. I think it would make him really happy to see you. Even if it hurts you to be around the rest of us when we’re happy, please try for him.”

Before Onew could give any sort of answer Kyuhyun was making his way quickly back to his cabin, his socked feet silent on the walkway.

The door to the cabin made only a slight thud, an almost silent one, actually, when Kyuhyun pushed it open to climb down. Zhou Mi was still on the bed, still modestly covered by a now threadbare blanket Kyuhyun had had since childhood, but the man was certainly not sleeping.

Softly, Zhou Mi asked, “Guixian?”

“Did I wake you?” Kyuhyun asked regretfully, burrowing next to him, ducking under Zhou Mi’s arm and feeling comfortable at once. 

Leeteuk had gotten them a new mattress as a wedding gift. It was heaven on earth and Kyuhyun was determined to spend all his free time laying on it, drifting in clouds of comfort.

“No. But you worried me,” Zhou Mi told him, pulling Kyuhyun closer. “I woke and you weren’t here. I thought there might be trouble.”

“There wasn’t,” Kyuhyun said, the words flowing effortlessly. The last thing Zhou Mi needed was the added worry of the engines. Zhou Mi had enough anxiety already. “I just couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk around the ship.”

Zhou Mi was quiet and Kyuhyun wasn’t sure he was believed.

Pressing his cheek to Zhou Mi’s warm, bare chest, he said, “I’m just excited over having Changmin on board. He’s never flown with us before. And I usually only get to see him for hours at a time.”

Zhou Mi’s fingers tangled through Kyuhyun’s hair. “I suppose the two of you will soon formulate plans to start a prank war amongst the ship’s crew. Or at the very least you’ll cook up some kind of mischief.”

Kyuhyun grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a free pass from the chaos, if there is any.”

“Oh, I’m sure there will be,” Zhou Mi said affectionately. “But thank you all the same.”

With the stars flashing by them as the ship flew on, Kyuhyun closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to sleep. He tried to block out Onew and the engine and the upcoming heist. More than that, he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach that if Zhou Mi had been the one to die, Kyuhyun might have tried to die with him.

Maybe Onew was stronger than anyone was giving him credit for. 

“Guixian?”

“Sorry,” Kyuhyun mumbled, realizing he was fidgeting a little.

“Sleep,” Zioumi urged, and Kyuhyun did.

The morning brought fresh eggs, something Kyuhyun hadn’t seen in the better part of a year, echoing laugher from everyone at the breakfast table including Onew (but excluding the two passengers they’d taken on at Helios), and the best sense of contentment.

“I’m demanding a wedding gift from you,” Kyuhyun told Changmin as the meal was whining down, but voices were still carrying. “Six months I’ve been married and you couldn’t even make it to the event. Where’s my ten thousand credit bottle of whiskey or my own floating private island?”

Changmin posed, “Maybe you think I make more than I actually do.”

Yunho scooped another spoonful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and told Changmin, “We begged Zhou Mi to take him off to some Rim planet and play house with him, but no such luck.”

Kyuhyun smacked Yunho on the shoulder.

“I’m sure,” Zhou Mi cut in flawlessly, “had we given Changmin enough time, he would have attended.”

“Exactly!” Changmin jabbed a threatening fork at Kyuhyun. “Don’t blame me for not attending your shotgun wedding. I was on Persea at the time. I was located a week away from where you held your ceremony when you let me know twelve hours ahead of time.”

Ryeowook said wistfully, “It was actually quite beautiful. And the bandits the Captain pissed off two weeks previous waited until after the ceremony to attempt to get their revenge.”

“Nice,” Leeteuk agreed, grinning behind his glass of water. “Lots of alcohol.”

“Okay, okay,” Yunho said, tipping his chair back onto two legs as Onew made a flailing motion subtly to Changmin indicating very clearly that he thought Kyuhyun didn’t deserve any kind of wedding present six months after the event. “We have to finish up here. Kyuhyun, you’ve got a double shift today, and the rest of you, you’ve got your duties too.”

Changmin wiped a napkin over his mouth and replied to Kyuhyun, “How about we make a deal? I’ll send you a wedding present, in fact, it’ll be whatever you want it to be within reasonable means, if you send me whatever I want for my wedding gift.”

There was a beat of silence, and flurry of eyes drilling into each other, and Kyuhyun locked his own gaze onto Changmin.

“You’re lying.”

With an amused laugh, Yunho spoke up, “He’s really not.”

“You’re getting married?” Kyuhyun asked, his the only voice in the silence around them.

“Yes,” Changmin replied. “I’ll send you the wedding announcement soon. Though I’m sure by now its been announced in the Helios Gazette. You can look it up if you want.”

Yunho nudged Kyuhyun. “Changmin’s marrying the magistrate’s son. Maybe you should start calling him sir, Kyu.”

Kyuhyun rocked up to his feet. “We’re invited to the wedding?”

Changmin gave him a kind smile. “You’re family, aren’t you?”

“Thank you,” Onew said quietly.

Kyuhyun shook his head in disbelief.

“What?” Yunho sighed out. 

“This only means one thing, you realize.”

Kyuhyun could safely say that Changmin was one of his best friends. They had known each other for four years, had nearly the same sense of humor and could say a thousand words to each other with one look. Kyuhyun trusted Changmin and loved him. Changmin was family.

“Something good I hope,” Changmin said with a smile.

Kyuhyun gave him a sly look. “I guess that depends on your definition. Because, Changmin, if you’re getting married, that means you get a bachelor party.”

Leeteuk set his cup down heavily on the table, shaking it a bit. “Gods help us all.” 

Kyuhyun grinned wildly at them. “It’s tradition, after all. Now, who’s going to help me plan?”

Kyuhyun watched the table scatter in seconds before his eyes and felt a surge of pleasure. Sometimes he really loved himself.

Of course being left alone at the table, save for Ryeowook who was cleaning the dishes and Changmin who was calmly finishing his eggs, meant that Kyuhyun was likely about to get roped into helping clean up.

“Grab that plate,” Ryeowook said, gesturing to the whole far side of the table. “Since you decided to run Leeteuk out of here, who was supposed to be helping me. Guess what, you just got drafted into his place.”

Changmin, looking smug, said nothing, but Kyuhyun could imagine what he was thinking. 

Changmin. Married. Huh.

“What’s that?” Kyuhyun asked, gesturing to a couple of covered plates set to the side on a heating pallet. 

“Ah,” Ryeowook said, accepting a stack of plates from Kyuhyun. “Those were supposed to be for our guests. The two we picked up as passengers. But they didn’t come out of their rooms this morning, which the Captain assures me is his preference for some reason.”

Changmin groaned. “That doesn’t bode well. Yunho isn’t typically that difficult to get along with.”

Kyuhyun wondered, “Are we talking about the same person?”

Ryeowook ignored Changmin. “Kyuhyun, you want to take that food to them?”

Kyuhyun asked, “We’re running a delivery service now?”

“Come on,” Changmin urged, standing and clearing his own dishes in a way that made Ryeowook give Kyuhyun a pointed look. “I’ll go with you. I’ll apologize for whatever my brother’s done to irritate or offend them, and you can stand next to me and look sincere. They shouldn’t have pay for Yunho’s manner.”

“Sincere?” Kyuhyun teased. “I can look that way?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Fifteen minutes later Kyuhyun was waiting impatiently at the door to the cabin their passengers were staying in, Changmin next to him with the food in tow.

When the door did slid open a gruff, displeased looking man met them. But a half second later the look on his face vanished and he apologized, “I’m sorry. I thought you were--”

“The Captain?” Changmin asked. “No. But we noticed you missed breakfast, and while you might be able to catch up at dinner, Yunho rarely comes to dinner by the way, you shouldn’t have to be hungry the whole day. We brought food, if you’re interested.”

Kyuhyun wondered, “What did Yunho do to piss you off?”

Behind the man a second, far more attractive male appeared. “Thank you,” he said, “we appreciate you bringing us breakfast. If you want to come in, it might be a little cramped, but I think we’ll all fit.”

It had been a while since Kyuhyun had been in the guest quarters on the ship. There were three cabins in total, and this was by far the biggest, but now that Kyuhyun could see the second guest, and how he reeked of aristocracy, it was probably smaller than his closet wherever he came from.

“I’m Hero,” the second man introduced, “and this is Micky.”

“Kyuhyun,” he indicated to himself. “And this is our bonefide Companion, Changmin.”

Changmin rolled his eyes and handed them the plates. “I should probably apologize about last night. The Captain offered me a place on his ship for a trip and I turned him down the first time. When I realized my mistake, I had a friend call in a favor to get the ship held at the port for a few extra seconds. You’re not on a tight timetable, are you?”

Hero shook his head, surprise lighting his features. “It was you last night?”

“You certainly look like a Companion,” Micky said appreciatively, but not lewdly. 

“Yes,” Changmin nodded. “And by the way that you thought it was the Captain at the door, and not us, coupled with the look on your face, I’d say he’s done something to piss you off.”

Kyuhyun offered, “He pisses the rest of us off all the time, but he’s still pretty likable when you get down to it. I mean, you shouldn’t judge him for the way he acts around people he doesn’t know.”

Changmin agreed, “He puts on a front. He’s had to. People have burned him before in the past, and they were people he trusted or didn’t see as a threat. He’s more careful now, which sometimes makes him an ass, because the crew are his family, and he won’t risk them. I’m not justifying the captain, I’m just saying there’s a method to his madness. A reasoning, if you will.”

“I don’t like what he thinks I am,” Hero said, uncovering the plate of food and grinning. “This looks wonderful.”

Nonchalant, Kyuhyun said, “Our cook, Ryeowook, he’s a master at making something out of nothing. But we did just get fresh ingredients, so here’s to food that isn’t freeze dried or vacuum sealed.”

Curiously, Changmin asked, “What does he think you are?”

Fork poised above eggs that were still fluffy and perfect, Hero decided, “Like I’m a spoiled little rich boy who’d never had to work for anything in his life. And it’s evident by looking at him that he’s had to work for everything.”

Kyuhyun watched Changmin purse his lips then follow up, “And are you?”

“Am I what?” Hero wondered.

“A spoiled rich little boy who’d never had to work for anything in his life,” Changmin posed bluntly. 

“Are you?” Micky intercepted, and Kyuhyun could tell he was protective of his friend. It was an admirable quality, even if it didn’t look like Hero particularly appreciated it at the moment.

“No, Micky,” Hero said, “that’s a valid question, I guess. And the answer is that yes, I guess I am a spoiled little rich boy. That’s not a lie. But I’ve worked for what I have. I’ve gotten where I am in my life because of my dedication and perseverance. I’ve never let anything carry me to success except for my own hard work. The Captain is wrong if he thinks I don’t know what it’s like to work hard for something.”

“The Captain is a judgmental asshole,” Micky said. “He doesn’t know anything about who we are and where we come from, but he wants to make assertions that are completely wrong.”

Kyuhyun thought maybe they were being a little harsh. After all, Yunho could be rough on the edges, but he was genuinely one of the better people Kyuhyun had met in his life. Yunho cared for people who were in need, and took chances where other people wouldn’t. Yunho could be nurturing, too, and at fifteen when Kyuhyun had met him, he’d needed it. 

Kyuhyun could see the skin at Changmin’s eyes pinch a bit, indicative that he was at least a little offended for Yunho.

Changmin offered, “If you’re so worried about the assertions that the Captain might be making about you, why don’t you prove him wrong? Why don’t you take a chance and get to know him? Hiding here, in your cabin, won’t do anything to change his mind about you. Yunho is very strong willed, and it isn’t always easy to change his opinions once he’s settled on something, but it’s also not impossible. And he’s a good man. He’s the best man I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”

“You know him?” Hero asked, suddenly looking uneasy. “Well?”

Something devilish crossed Changmin’s features, enough to prove why he was Kyuhyun’s absolute favorite, then he said, “Yunho is my brother, so I suppose you could say I know him well.”

If Kyuhyun could have taken a picture, he would have snapped a million.

“Your brother,” Micky deadpanned.

Hero, full of poise even through the faux pas he’d just committed, observed, “But you’re a Companion. And while I have no doubt the Captain is a capable man, he doesn’t seem the sort to come from a family where a child would be given the opportunity to enter the Companion’s Guild. I mean this with the most respect, but it’s a bit confusing.”

“I know it is,” Changmin relented, and Kyuhyun couldn’t help being a little curious himself. It was a subject that Changmin and Yunho almost never touched on. It was nearly taboo to almost bring it up, despite neither of them being the least bit ashamed. “Because yes, traditionally the Companion’s Guild pulls from well to do, established and wealthy families. But everyone once in a while public pressure for a little charity will sneak past all the bureaucracy and a child will be chosen from an impoverished area. In my case, it was a slum area of Eaton where Yunho was trying very valiantly to protect us from both starvation and those who would hurt us to take what very little we had. We had a brief stint at a local orphanage, but they fill up fast and Yunho got in one too many fights trying to defend us from bullies, so we were out on the street by the time I was Seven.”

“Seven?” Hero choked out. 

Changmin amended, “I would have been allowed to stay, but I certainly wasn’t going to if they were forcing Yunho to go. And it might be a little hard to believe with how tall I am now, when I was a child, I was small for my age, and very quiet. Yunho took care of me. He fed me and made sure I was clean, kept anyone away who would have hurt me, protected me from predators, and when the Companion’s Guild came to Eaton looking for a charity case, Yunho put me front and center. He wasn’t going to let them go until they understood that I was exactly what they were looking for.”

Kyuhyun had been raised by his older sister. In that he felt as if he shared a sort of kindred history with Changmin. However their life, his and his sister’s, had been one surrounded by a poor but protective community of their parent’s friends. They hadn’t had to worry about any of the things Yunho and Changmin had. 

Micky asked, “There must have been thousands of children vying for that one spot. What did the Captain boast about to make you seem unique?”

“Thousands?” Changmin replied, “More than that. The Guild came to Eaton, but they drew from surrounding planets as well, Yunho forced me to stand in the cold for hours with him. Seven hours or eight, I’m not sure. But so long that I was starting to turn blue. He gave me his coat, made me wait, and then when we finally were in front of the Guild representative, he told me to sing. It’s my voice that had me chosen amongst the others. They trained me to sooth with my voice, and to be desired for it.”

At least that was something Kyuhyun could attest to. He’d heard Changmin sing before and his voice was incredible. Once or twice they’d sung together. 

“So you became a Companion, and your brother …” Hero inquired.

Changmin gracious continued, “He stayed behind to work for a few years. He saved every credit he had, biding his time until he was old enough and strong enough to follow me, and then he came to where I was being trained. We still couldn’t be together then, the Guild allowed very little contact for its children with the outside world, but it was enough knowing he was there. And when we were older, I could see him more frequently. My point in telling you all of this is that Yunho didn’t have to do anything that he did. He could have left me to be bullied and tormented by the other children. He didn’t have to feed me and protect me. And he risked everything, sacrificed everything, to ensure me a better life--not himself. He can be rough because he’s lived on the streets, and had to fend off the worst of people, but he is a good man and better than most.”

“Changmin. Enough.”

Kyuhyun shot to his feet. “Captain!

Of course. Because he’d stupidly left the door cracked open behind him, and the Captain who was like a ghost on the ship, anywhere and everywhere, had to have passed by just as Changmin was spilling their history to strangers that he apparently didn’t like.

“Yunho,” Changmin replied calmly.

“What are you doing?” The Captain’s face was bare, unreadable and downright scary. If he wasn’t kicking up a fuss it had to mean that he was actually mad. 

Changmin said, “I was making sure our guests don’t starve on your watch. They missed breakfast.”

Kyuhyun felt his stomach flop over as Yunho stated, “That was their choice, and you’re not some serving boy, Changmin. You’re a Companion.”

“That doesn’t make me any better than anyone else on this ship,” Changmin shot out. 

Look,” Kyuhyun cut in between them. “It was just breakfast, Captain.” So why did it feel like he’d stumbled upon something that was much more than a missed meal?

“Go to the bridge,” Yunho told him sharply.

There was real bite in the tone for once, and not just playfulness that Yunho usually threw his way. So with only a quick parting look to Changmin who seemed to be riling himself up for a fight, Kyuhyun took off, going as far as he could to the bridge.

“What’s wrong?” Leeteuk asked when Kyuhyun slid into his usual seat, the older man relinquishing control of the ship to him. “You’ve got a look on your face.”

Kyuhyun took a quick look over the readings in front of him, then offered, “I think there’s about to be an issue in the guest quarters.”

Leeteuk stood immediately. “What kind of problem?”

“I don’t know,” Kyuhyun said honestly, “but it’s not going to be pretty. Say, in a fight between Changmin and Yunho, who do you think would win?”

It was almost worth it to see Leeteuk sprint off the bridge.

Then he remembered the steely look in Yunho’s eyes, and the stubbornness in Changmin’s. 

Kyuhyun sunk down in his chair with unease. If Yunho and Changmin, and their two passengers for that matter, didn’t squash whatever was going on, it was going to be a long few days to the Moon Hub. And even for a freighter the size of the Tohoshinki, it was already beginning to feel too cramped with the tension.


	5. Five: Jaejoong

The Captain’s last words were ringing in Jaegoong’s head like a terrible reminder of his own incompetence.

Of course Changmin would turn out to be the Captain’s brother. Of course he and Yoochun would have made their displeasure of him widely known before finding out the relation. Of course. Because this was Jaejoong’s life now.

But the words. The raw words that made Jaejoong feel so regretful, were echoing, sinking into him.

Kyuhyun, who seemed far too young to be traveling regularly on a ship, probably living on it too, had hightailed it from the cabin almost the second the Captain had appeared, and Jaejoong hadn’t even gotten a chance to once more thank him for bringing breakfast.

Then it had been just Jaejoong and Yoochun, the Companion and his brother. The Captain.

Tensely Jaejoong had watched as Changmin stared his brother down, offering finally, “I’m not, as you just so said, a serving boy. But I’m a decent human being, and I refuse to let anyone on this ship go hungry. It was a simple task, Yunho, and I didn’t exactly have anything else to do. Would you prefer I go to my room and lounge about, maybe complaining of how terribly difficult my life of luxury is? The same life you’d judge another man for having?”

“You’re so funny,” Yunho said with a straight face. “But since you offered, what I’d prefer is if you wouldn’t go wandering around, looking for people to spill all of our childhood to.”

Jaejoong’s mouth had gone dry, sensing things were likely to get worse before they even had a chance of getting better. 

“A childhood you should have no shame of,” Changmin threw back. “Or are you trying to protect the image you’ve build of yourself for people who don’t know you better than that?”

“I should be proud of having to dig through garbage to feed myself and you?” Yunho hissed out. “Of course, what was I thinking? Let’s go tell everyone we see!”

Jaejoong pressed back on his bed as slowly as possible.

Hunger was one thing Jaejoong had never known. He’d known fear with his father, fear of being controlled, beaten, intimidated and made to feel insignificant or lacking. He’d spent a life being told what to wear, where to attend school, who to keep as friends, and even how chaste to keep his body. But hunger? There had never been a day when he hadn’t eaten three full meals, and snacks in between whenever he wanted them.

When he really thought about it, his family had probably thrown out, in terms of excess food, more in one day than some people saw in a week.

It was humiliating to realize.

Looking sad, Changmin had told his brother, “I didn’t know you were ashamed of that point in our life. I’m not. I’m proud of it. Maybe you think that’s stupid, but I don’t. struggling like that, it made us into what we are. It made us appreciate our lives, and we wouldn’t be where we are now, if we hadn’t endured that. It was our lowest point, Yunho, but I had you back then, so I felt as rich as a king. I’ll always feel that way, as long as I have you.”

Yunho’s shoulders fell in that moment and Yunho looked so fragile Jaejoong had wondered how he’d mistaken him for anything but a beautifully flawed human being.

The regret had been too clear on Yunho’s face in the seconds after that, along with the further drooping of his shoulders that indicated weariness. 

“This isn’t the place for us to talk about this, Changmin. But you’re confusing me being ashamed of the things I had to do to keep us alive, for me being ashamed of you. That’s not the same thing. They couldn’t be further from each other. Understand?”

Jaejoong had felt Yoochun’s eyes on him and when he turned to meet his gaze, even Yoochun looked a little guilty.

Changmin gathered himself up and said, “I guess we’ll talk about this later, then. I’m going to go see if Ryeowook’s finished in the kitchen yet. I trust you won’t think that I shouldn’t wash dishes, either.”

The moments after Changmin had left, long and silent and drawn out in an agonizing way, had been a hundred times worse than those that had come after Kyuhyun’s departure. 

The Captain had so unexpectedly lingered, eyes fixed on nothing across the room and Jaejoong’s throat felt swollen up, and his tongue like cotton.

Finally, blessedly, it had been Yoochun who offered, “Captain?”

Giving a short twitch, the Captain rounded back on them, a dark look on his face. “Don’t,” he said, all traces of raw hurt from his face gone, “think for a second that I’m some saint, no matter how Changmin paints me to be. I’ve killed men before, and I’ll probably kill some more before the year is up. I don’t rescue small kittens from trees, or give charitably. I’m not a nice man. As far as you should be concerned, I’m a mean old man.”

“Your brother seems to think otherwise,” Jaejoong had said brazenly, as if his brain had disconnected with his mouth.

“Changmin sees the good in people too frequently. It’s a character defect, but it’s one I’ve learned to live with.”

Jaejoong still remembered how he’d pursed his lips, considered his words very carefully, then said, “Being a mean old man, to use your words, isn’t the same as being a protective older brother. If I had a brother, I’d do whatever it took to protect him, too, especially if he didn’t see the same kinds of threats I did in the world around us.” Or a sister. His baby sister.

Yunho gave him an oddly pensive look. “And you have a clue about the kinds of dangers that surround us constantly, but are often hard for some people to see?”

Head nodding, Jaejoong had said, “Especially the kind that masquerade as respectable, when really he’s a monster.”

The confusion on Yunho’s face hadn’t matter then. Not when all Jaejoong could suddenly think of were the times his father had gripped him tightly in public, a reminder that he was wolf in sheep’s clothing, and it was not to be forgotten. So may times had he stood next to his father in pleasant company and raved about his father’s compassion, gentlemanly nature and generosity, only to suffer what could likely be considered torture the moment they were alone and his father could exercise his disappointment in him. 

So much pain and so much unhappiness had accompanied Jaejoong from childhood into his teenage years, and not let up the least bit as he became an adult. If anything, reaching the age of maturity had given his father extra room in which to hurt him.

And nearly everyone, from Alliance officials to the respected contributors of the community, thought he was a kind and gentle soul, most of all to his son.

“Hero,” Yoochun had said, touching his elbow gently and nodding knowingly.

“I’m not a nice man,” the Captain said finally once more, but Jaejoong couldn’t believe him. Not now. Not after seeing how he’d handled his brother, especially as Changmin had spewed near insults and accusations at him.

There was so much love in the Captain for his brother, there was no way he wasn’t more than what he seemed.

“We didn’t ask your brother to come here,” Yoochun spoke up. “He probably won’t come again, either.”

A smile broke on Yunho’s face making him look lovely to Jaejoong. “You don’t know Changmin very well. I suspect you’ll be seeing a lot of him, especially if he knows it irritates me for him to be here.”

“We can’t stop him from coming,” Yoochun challenged.

“Look.” The Captain had dragged a hand over his face, rubbing almost harshly. “I’m not a nice man. I’m not going to argue that with you. But I’m not a needlessly cruel one, either. You don’t need to stay in your rooms and miss meals to avoid me. On this ship, you’ll never be a prisoner. This ship means freedom.”

“Freedom,” Jaejoong said, and gods if that wasn’t the most beautiful word he’d ever heard in his life. 

“Freedom,” the Captain nodded. “That’s what ships should always represent. Now, for obvious reasons there are some areas off limits to you including the bridge, engine room and cargo bay, but anywhere else you want to go, just go. Neither of you look the type to do well with being cooped up in such a small space. You want to stretch your legs, you don’t need to be afraid to. No one on this ship will hurt you, provided you don’t hurt anyone.”

Yoochun asked skeptically, in a way that now Jaejoong thought was a horrible idea, “Just like that? What if we had ulterior motives?”

“Oh, I know you do,” the Captain said, not sparing a moment for Yoochun. Instead his full attention was turned on Jaejoong, his brown eyes piercing in deep, making Jaejoong’s heart beat just the slightest bit harder. “I know you’re not who you say you are.”

Jaejoong had said, so evenly he was proud of himself, “I’ve been more honest with you, Captain, than I would have been with any other stranger.”

“I meant no harm,” the Captain replied back with a laugh and Jaejoong had thought, or maybe hoped, that the man was starting to warm up to him. Or just be a little less uptight. “Everyone has an ulterior motive. Everyone lies. That’s part of being human. Now, like I said before, your lies hurt my family and I’ll toss you out of the airlock before we get halfway to the Moon Hub, but otherwise, you should keep your lies. Lies protect people.”

It was like Yoochun wasn’t even there. In that moment, the only person Jaejoong had been able to see was the Captain, his forehead free from creases proving he didn’t frown nearly as much as he probably wanted them to think he did. 

Jaejoong smiled. “Understood.”

That clearly hadn’t been what the Captain had expected. Maybe he’d been expecting some more arguing, or snappy, sarcastic comments. So he was thrown, for the first time seeming adorable in his awkwardness. 

So the Captain could be adorable just as much as he could be fierce. 

For some reason, nothing more had ever pleased Jaejoong than such an observation in the moment. 

“So we’re clear?” the Captain asked.

Jaejoong had said, “Shiny.” Then he’d frowned and asked quietly, “that’s the right word, correct? I’ve been doing my best to read up on space vernacular. I want to fit in.”

Next to him Yoochun had smiled in an amused way.

The Captain had grinned in surprise. “You … ah … correct.”

The Captain was blushing. He was honest to gods blushing and Jaejoong thought it fitted him in a splendid way.

“Hero is … an overachiever,” Yoochun teased. “He loves to learn.”

“Learn what?” Yunho looked at him captivatingly. 

Jaejoong felt pleasure curl in his chest, right around his heart. “Anything and everything. It doesn’t really matter to me, as long as it’s new. It’s all interesting.” It was the one thing Jaejoong had never tired of. Learning. Growing. Becoming more. He devoured ancient languages like desert, mastered new instruments merely for the fun of it, and breezed through books in record times. 

Yoochun looked to tease that his mind just worked too fast--far faster than anyone else’s, but Jaejoong thought it was just him being more curious than anything else. 

“I think you’ll make a great teacher,” the Captain decided.

Jaejoong’s mind had short-circuited for a moment. “Teacher?”

Yoochun had given him a sharp look. 

“Ah!” Jaejoong had recovered as quickly as possible. “Maybe. I guess.” Was that what he’d really end up doing? Would he land on some recently terraformed planet that was barely beginning to master running water? Would his days be occupied completely by teaching children to count and write in prose and do basic algebra? Would he ever have the chance to save a life again? Properly? Would he ever have an operating room to call his own once more? A real hospital to work in?

The Captain pressed his lips together, then eased out, “The engine room is off limits to you by yourself, but if you had someone like me, or my first officer Leeteuk, you could go and have a look some time. I’d wager a month’s rations that you’ve never been on a ship before. There’s plenty to learn about a ship.”

Jaejoong shot him a playful look. “I’m a rich little spoiled boy, remember, Captain? Surely you don’t think I’ve never been in space before.”

The Captain threw his head back and laughed. He really laughed and laughed and in response Jaejoong had found himself smiling back. 

“Maybe,” the Captain had argued, “a tiny little space shuttle, fitted for luxury in the half hour it takes to go from Helios to one of its three moons, but not a real ship. Not like this one.”

The Captain’s perceptive abilities were startling. “How’d you guess?”

The Captain assured Jaejoong, “It isn’t a guess. It was obvious. The way you walk. Even the way you’re standing. We can get the ship to produce standard gravity to mimic the kind you’re used to feeling planet side, for the most part at least, but your brain can still notice the slight differences, and it’s telling your body something feels wrong even if you don’t realize it is. Your body is trying to compensate for an unnatural feeling. It causes you to brace your legs an unnatural space apart, and I’ve seen you look down several times in the past few minutes alone. You’re reassuring yourself that you’re still standing, even though part of you knows you already are. The brain is a tricky thing to train for space travel.”

At the mention Jaejoong had looked down at his boots. He was standing in a more defensible position, and he hadn’t remembered getting into it. 

But Yoochun wasn’t.

Which was odd, because to the best of Jaejoong’s knowledge, Yoochun had never been off Helios. Not even when Jaejoong and his sister and their father had traveled. During those times Yoochun had remained at home, with Jaejoong’s mother. 

“--interested?”

Jaejoong had let himself get so lost in his pondering he’d missed the beginning part of the Captain’s question. “Sorry.”

The Captain grinned and repeated in an indulging way, “I wanted to know if that was something you were interested in. Do you want to see other parts of the ship?”

Was this really the same man who’d accused him of being selfish and arrogant and unappreciative? The man who’d been combative to a fault and unlikable?

Jaejoong hadn’t trusted his words. Not even slightly. So he’d just nodded.

“Good,” the Captain said, seeming so relieved. “Maybe tomorrow?”

Jaejoong was startled a little as Yoochun pressed in close to him suddenly and said, “We should get to our meal then, Captain.”

Jaejoong had honestly never wanted to throttle Yoochun before in his life. Never. But never had Jaejoong wanted to talk to someone as badly as he wanted to talk to the Captain now, either.

The Captain had taken a step back towards the door to the room, one hand puling it open in a reluctant way. And he looked for several more seconds like he wanted to say something, so despite Yoochun’s slight nudging, Jaejoong waited patiently.

Eventually the Captain managed, “Do you know what a ship sweet spot is?”

Jaejoong shook his head. “More space colloquialisms?”

“Phrase,” Yoochun intercepted when the Captain looked uncertain. “Slang.”

For a brief second Jaejoong had wondered if he’d made the Captain feel stupid. He was more than ready to berate himself when the Captain shrugged and said, “Not so much. But it’s a thing on every ship, though it’ll be different on each one.”

“What is it?” Jaejoong asked, leaning forward. 

The Captain nodded to their breakfast plates that were quickly losing heat. “Finish your breakfast before it’s wasted completely. Then when you leave your room, follow the walkway all the way down to the end. Go up two flights of stairs, back down the hallway in front of you and look to the starboard side. You’ll know it when you see it. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but it’s worth it.”

Panic had flushed through Jaejoong. “Starboard side?”

If the panic before had been something, it was suddenly full blown terror seconds later. Because the Captain had reached for him, turning him gently to put his back to the door, and also to the Captain’s chest. They’d been so close Jaejoong could feel the natural body heat from the Captain, and it had made him flush with dizziness.

“You’re facing the bridge now,” the Captain had said, his mouth too near Jaejoong’s ear fro him to think. Not even Yoochun’s disapproving look was enough to spoil it. “To avoid confusion in case of an emergency, we use technical terms so everyone can understand quickly.” The Captain touched the soft skin at Jaejoong’s left wrist. “That’s your port side.” Then he repeated the motion with Jaejoong’s right and said, “This is starboard. Got it?”

Jaejoong swore there was no way the Captain couldn’t feel his heart beating so hard it was actually physically painful. “I understand.”

“Good,” the Captain said, releasing Jaejoong.

Blandly, Yoochun had reminded, “Our food is going cold.”

The Captain had moved swiftly to the door and pulled it open completely.

And Jaejoong had sworn he was going to collapse on the spot. No man had ever touched him so simply yet so sensually before. Plenty of men had lusted after him, leered at him and made crude comments. Plenty had accused him of being a tease as he rebuffed their efforts, but none of them had ever shown the surprising care like the Captain had. 

“Go to the ship’s sweet spot,” the Captain all but commanded, finally looking at Jaeejong like he did the crew he considered family. “It’ll be worth it.”

Jaejoong promised, “After breakfast.”

He was turning back to the food before he heard the Captain say, “I meant what I said earlier.”

Jaejoong glanced at him over his shoulder. “About the airlock?”

The angry look on the Captain’s face was concerning. “No,” the Captain rushed out. “About you being safe here. As long as you’re on this ship, you’re under my protection. Even if that’s for a few days, you never have to worry about being in danger, or being scared. You can say what you want, think what you want and do what you want, you don’t have to fear someone hurting you.”

“I …”

The Captain’s eyes narrowed. “A coward hurts others simply because he can.”

Such fear flushed through Jaejoong that he knew he’d given everything away immediately. Without saying a single word, he’d betrayed himself.

“Captain.”

With a guarded face, the Captain said, “I’ll stop by later to see what you thought of my girl’s sweet spot. And I’ll expect to see you at the next sit down meal.”

The Captain’s words … his insistence that there’d be no fear of physical attack on the ship, and his reassurance of protection was …

“Thank you,” Jaejoong had whispered after the Captain’s retreating form.

That had been fifteen minutes previous. And for those fifteen minutes Jaejoong had forced himself to eat cold eggs all the while ignoring the almost furious expression Yoochun was shooting in his direction.

But eventually not even Jaejoong with his legendary patience, could endure any longer.

“Well?” he demanded of his friend. “What’s made you so mad?”

Yoochun wasted no time demanding, “How about the tiny little hearts in your eyes every time the Captain said a kind word to you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Excruciatingly,” Yoochun said, stabbing at his eggs with his fork. “I swear to the gods, I thought I was going to have to catch you. You were about to swoon, right? In a desperate attempt to get the Captain to catch you?”

“You probably would have let me hit the floor, had I fainted.”

“Maybe,” Yoochun admitted. Then he pulled his fork away from his eggs and leveled it up at Jaejoong. “Don’t.”

Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you don’t what me.”

Okay, so maybe Jaejoong had an inkling to what Yoochun meant. But it wasn’t really his fault. The Captain had gone from an ass to a knight in the span of around ten minutes and only someone as uninterested in love as Yoochun would be unable to notice how appealing the Captain truly was. 

Jaejoong asked Yoochun, “Why does it bother you so much that the Captain isn’t as bad as we thought he was? Why does it bother you that he’s capable of being compassionate and wonderful?”

“You got all that from the conversation?”

Jaejoong challenged, “I got all that from the way he handled his brother while they were disagreeing.”

Yoochun gave one more jab with his fork towards Jaejoong and said again, “Don’t. Men like the Cptain … they’re not meant for people like you. I’m not saying that to be hurtful, Jaejoong. But men like Captain Yunho are nomadic by nature. They never stay in one place for long, they rarely find it in themselves to commit to a single paramour, and I guarantee you he’s spent more at Rim brothels in the past few years than you’ve spent on anything for yourself in your entire life. Stay away from him, Jaejoong. He’s trouble for us.”

Being reprimanded by the man who tapped up his ribs for him any time his father was in a particularly foul mood, was not Jaejoong’s idea of friendship.

“I’m hardly going to be waiting for him in his bunk tonight, naked and between his sheets,” Jaejoong scoffed.

“Would that you could,” Yoochun said, daring Jaejoong to deny it. “But I’m not putting this all on you. You weren’t the only one with hearts in your eyes. And you’d better believe I’ll be doing exactly what the Captain said I would a day ago. You can sleep at night. I’ll be sitting with my back against the door.”

That gave Jaejoong significant pause. “What? I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Are you serious?” Yoochun stuttered his words.

“Are you implying the Captain has even the faintest attraction to me?” Jaejoong asked, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. 

Yoochun shook his head slowly. “I can’t even have this conversation with you. Jaejoong, you’re not this oblivious, right? You can’t possibly be.”

“The Captain deciding to be nice to us doesn’t mean he suddenly likes me, and certainly not in that way.”

“That way,” Yoochun repeated with a pitchy tone. “Jaejoong, the Captain was looking at you like he’d just discovered boys all over again for the first time.”

Jaejoong posed, “What if he prefers the company of the fairer sex?”

Dumping his plate to the side, Yoochun said definitively, “If he prefers women, when we finally get our feet on solid ground, I’ll kiss the first horse we see. With tongue.”

“You’re tactless and crass sometimes, Yoochun.”

But if he was right …

No. Jaejoong couldn’t let him get distracted by the Captain. Captain Yunho was extremely attractive, and in possession of traits that Jaejoong found admirable in a match. But he’d just run away from the only home he’d ever known in order to find himself, and rely on himself, and become who his father had never let him be. A romance of any sort, be it short term or more, was not something he needed to complicate things.

“Don’t draw his attention any more than you have to,” Yoochun advised, “or we may find out that the Captain is indeed, not a nice man.”

Worry snapped Jaejoong to seriousness. “Why do you say that?”

Jaejoon watched as Yoochun reached for a nearby data pad. He tapped the screen a few times then turned it around for Jaejoon to see. And on the screen were their faces, information, and a reward posted.

“Oh, no.” Jaejoong reached for it, drawing it near, hardly able to believe how bad things had gotten so quickly. “My father put this out?”

Yoochun nodded. “Probably within hours of our disappearance, if even that long.”

Jaejoong skimmed over the information. “But I’m of legal age. He can’t …” And there it was. The reason his father could post such a bulletin.

Mouth puckered, Yoochun said, “I’m still his property. Well, to be fair, so are you, no matter what the law says. But in monetary terms, I’m his property. And he’s listed me as a runaway, with the strong belief that I kidnapped you. This way he’ll be legally justified in dragging us back when he catches up with us. And Jaejoong, if you bait the Captain in any way, or captivate him in the slightest, he may get it in his mind to try and learn more about you. He’ll try to run our papers, he’ll come across this almost immediately, and I don’t think I need to tell what I think he’ll do.”

Jaejoong saw Yoochun’s reasoning crystal clear. 

The reward posted for Yoochun was a quarter million credits, and half a million for himself. The reward money for alerting the authorities to their location was enough to tempt a saint, or rather, men who were in need of money and a crew to feed.

“You think he’ll jump at the chance to make three quarters of a million in credits.”

“That’s more than he’ll see in his career,” Yoochun said. “A few times over. It won’t matter if he thinks you’re pretty or funny or anything. He’ll want the money. So we need to keep him from being too interested until I finish our new identities.”

“Huh?”

“We are going to need papers eventually, you know,” Yoochun told him patiently. “So I’m going to create some for us. But it’ll take time to make them look good. I should have them finished by the time we hit the Moon Hub, so don’t worry about that. You worry about keeping the Captain off you like a dog in heat.”

In a small voice, Jaejoong confessed, “He is attractive. And not a total jerk like we thought. Just rough on the edges.”

Yoochun said, taking the data pad back, “He could be one of the seven reverent saints for all I care, Jaejoong. Don’t let him think you’re interested, even if you are, for some strange reason. I would have thought the first time I saw you actually show romantic interest in another human being it would be one of a higher pedigree.”

Jaejoong let himself flop back on the bed. He didn’t want to talk about the Captain anymore. So instead he inquired, “If my father has our names and faces circulating around, with a crazy reward like that, do you think we’ll manage to find passage on another ship?” He shifted to keep Yoochun in his sight. “Safe passage?”

With a sigh, Yoochun admitted, “It makes things far more difficult, I admit. But not impossible. But while we’re on the subject, we need to talk about the Moon Hub. I’m pretty loathe to admit it, but the Captain wasn’t merely just blowing steam the other day when he tried to scare you with his words.”

“So it’s not a friendly place, then?”

“Not even close.” Yoochun rested his elbows on his knees, legs crossed under him. “The Moon Hub is basically one giant brothel. But it’s near Core planets so no one dares call it that. Of course neither is it sanctioned by the Companion’s Guild so it really is giant whore house. But my point is, it’s very, very popular with the Core residents who have a lot of money and want to get away with things that they typically can’t. The port was built into the Hub, which is situated on a space station in permanent orbit around Gwanghwamun.”

“And enough ships visit the Moon Hub for us to pick out a good transport?”

Looking more sure, Yoochun said, “Absolutely. At any time the Hub caters to around fifteen to twenty large sized transports at one time, and many more smaller. The station is fairly big and a lot has risen up around it over the years. Shops, residences and all kinds of services are offered. Jaejoong, the Moon Hub is Alliance property so we’re going to have to be extremely careful where we show our faces and for how long. We need to be in and out quickly.”

Jaejoong rolled to his side, his fingers aching from misuse. Every day for the past eight years he’d practiced his surgical skills. Since medical school. His fingers were twitching to hold a scalpel and flex his wrists in an expected way. When he and Yoochun had fled the house he’d had to leave behind all of his equipment, save for the tiny travel case of basic tools he kept already prepared in his suitcase for unexpected trips. If the need got much better he’d have to break them out and work with what he had, even if it was only miming the motions.

“I have a contact,” Yoochun said unexpectedly. “We’ll meet him at the local bar. It’s safest there, with minimal surveillance and very little security.” 

Safer. Not safe. 

“Your contact will help us?” Jaejoong asked.

“He will.”

Jaejoong wanted to pry as to who the contact was, or even how Yoochun, a house kept, indentured servant had a contact, but it hardly seemed worth the fuss. There’d be time for questions later on. 

“We need to be prepared for a fight. For the possibility of one.”

At those words Jaejoong sat up. “What kind of fight? With the Alliance’s men?”

Tightly, Yoochun corrected, “No, though in this instance I’d take them instead, if you can believe it. No. Jaejoong, the Hub is filled with degenerates and predators. What makes them especially dangerous is their money. And if they see you as an opportunity, even for a second, I may not be able to keep you safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jaejoong protested. “I had--”

“One class in self defense at the academy,” Yoochun answered for him. “And your father pulled you from it the second he grabbed you and you were able to twist out of his grip and get away.” 

His father had beat him until he was coughing up blood that night. Jaejoong remembered it with startling clarity. He’d spent most of the night afterwards sprawled out on his bathroom floor, Yoochun hovering over him with the miniature diagnostic scanner, monitoring his condition with tears in his eyes, waiting for the first sign of internal bleeding. 

He’d been sixteen.

“When we get off the ship,” Yoochun said, and Jaejoong tried not to let on in the slightest how little he wanted that to happen, “we’re going to do everything possible to make the two of us look like low bred common workers. I’m going to go talk to the Companion--Changmin, and see if he has anything to cover your head--you’ll give us away with just the softness of your face. You’ll have to stick to me like glue, keep your head down and try your best not to be made.”

“It can’t possibly be this bad,” Jaejoong said in disbelief. 

Yoochun continued, “I don’t want anyone to even see your face if it can be helped, and we’ll have to try and do something about your posture. You walk like you’re well bred, which is a problem. The bastards that run the whore houses will take you as a hot commodity if they think you’re from a family that bothered to educate you and keep you clean.”

Jaejoong kicked out a bit childishly on the bed. “Why do I have to go through all this? Why not you? Why can’t I just pose as a customer, or some scary space pirate?”

There was no answer.

“Yoochun?”

“Because,” Yoochun finally said, his voice slow and deliberate, “some people just look like easy marks, Jaejoong. There’s no other way to explain it. Some people look like they’re weak, regardless if they are or not, and some people will draw predators. No Madam or Master on the Moon Hub is going to look at me and think they can charge a king’s ransom for me. The same can’t be said for you.”

Jaejoong asked, “If someone tries to grab me or … you know … won’t there be a police force to do something about it?”

“Who do you think half the customers are?”

Jaejoong flopped back. “Great.”

Unexpectedly, Yoochun told him, “If we’d had time to prepare for hitting the Moon Hub, maybe you wouldn’t have to go in disguised. There are only three ways to avoid remaining unmolested, for lack of a better word, at the Moon Hub. First, be a customer, and trust me, you’ll be able to tell which ones are from the moment you see them. Two, travel with a large enough group that very few people will want to turn a simple snatch and grab into a full on brawl or possible riot.”

“And three?”

Yoochun arched an eyebrow. “Pack enough heat to make those bastards think twice. Or not think at all if they try to mess with you.”

This peeked Jaejoong’s interest. “You can take weapons onto the station?” In Alliance heavy space, particularly near the main Core planets, firearms were strictly forbidden on space stations. Sometimes even the local police force were forced to go without. 

“Technically,” Yoochun said, a small grin tugging at the edges of his mouth, “all visitors are expected to check their firearms into lockboxes when arriving, but there are plenty of ways to get around that. And we’re not exactly equipped for a firefight in any case.” 

Jaejoong pointed across the room to where his boots were stashed. They were the same ones he’d put on right before dinner, the ones that made his feet hurt after sixteen hours standing at the hospital, but were expensive and beautiful. “ I have a small knife in there.”

Yoochun shook his head. “Haven’t you ever heard about bringing a knife to a gunfight? Never mind. My contact at the bar will provide a weapon for us. We just have to get to him.”

Tucking a hand under his chin, Jaejoong reasoned, “We could have waited for another ship. One going to the Rim. This seems like a really bad idea. We’re going closer to the Core, which means closer to the Alliance which my father’s money can buy, and to a space station where we’re in danger of being robbed, raped and murdered.”

“Scoot,” Yoochun said, nudging Jaejoong with his socked foot. A second later he climbed in next to him on the bed, hands tucking behind his head. “I don’t know for sure, but I think your father was right behind us. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes before he realized we were gone. He would have figured we were making for the space port pretty quickly, or even just covered his bases there incase we decided it at a later date. If we hadn’t gotten on this ship when we did, we might not have made it out at all. That’s what I think. I think we would have gotten caught. And I’d probably be dead, and you’d be either close to it, or already married off to whoever that guy was.”

Probably.

Inches apart, Jaejoong soaked up Yoochun’s comfort. “I never thanked you. You saved my life.”

Yoochun snorted. “I saved you before we made a run for it. You were the idiot who was threatening to throw himself out his window.” Yoochun turned his head toward Jaejoong. “You were really going to do it too, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Jaejoong said honestly. “But I think so. Yes.” Never had he felt such desperation in his life. Never had he felt before that death was better than living on in the condition of his current life.

Laying together on the narrow bed, Yoochun said, “You don’t ever have to thank me.”

“Yes I do,” Jaejoong insisted. “Of course I do. Who else would risk their life for me? Who else would take that kind of risk?”

Jaejoong hugged tight to Yoochun as he replied simply, “Anyone who considered themselves your brother.”

The feeling was mutual.


	6. Six: Zhou Mi

“There’s something wrong with Captain Yunho.”

Zhou Mi sunk a bit lower into his favorite chair in the ship’s communal lounge area and debated toeing his shoes off. He was certain he was no longer growing, but his shoes were starting to pinch like they were too small. His boots, the ones he wore off the ship were fine, but it was looking like he needed to invest in the shoes intended for scaling ladders, navigating walkways and running errands.

“Seriously.”

Tapping his fingers against the screen of the data pad in front of him he tried to work his way through his latest crossword puzzle. He was particularly fond of puzzles of the sort, especially when they increased his vocabulary and made it so he had to ask around for an answer, or search for it on the net. 

“You’re not even listen to me, are you?”

The thing about being a predominantly freight ship, the kind that took on odd jobs once in a while but mostly moved things from point A to point B, whether it be cargo or people, was that there was often a lot of downtime. Of course there could be a gunfight at any time, or a space race, but most of Zhou Mi’s days, honestly, were spent balancing his duties on the ship and working on his crossword puzzles.

“I’m going to start a harem and I’ll steal Kyuhyun out from under you to be the first member.”

“Unlikely,” Zhou Mi eased out without much a reaction. “Oh, Leeteuk, a nine letter word, starting with m and ending with it too. Clue is optimistic philanthropy.”

Across from him on the wicker based sofa, looking tense and unhappy, the ship’s first mate, the Captain’s oldest friend, shot him a look of incredulous annoyance. “I’m trying to tell you that something is wrong with Yunho, and you’re just ignoring me.”

Optimistic philanthropy. Hmm.

“No,” Zhou Mi told him, “I’m pretty sure you were trying to tell me about your attempt to steal Kyuhyun from me. I’m going to have to advise against this, and not only because he’s a handful that will probably make your life more of a burden than a pleasure, but also because that pretty Companion of yours, the one based out of Ariel, probably won’t take that well. You having a harem, I mean.”

And, naturally, because Zhou Mi would kill anyone who attempted such a thing with his Kyuhyun.

His beautiful, precious Kyuhyun.

Crossword forgotten for a second, all Zhou Mi could see in his mind was the moment he’d stepped out of the bank on New Austen where his size and physical capabilities had lent him to a life of protecting money for the very few Rim residents who manage to acquire it. There’d been a commotion outside that drew his attention and he’d never been more sure that placing the bank directly across from the bar was the most foolhardy decision anyone in the town had ever made.

And sure enough there’d been a brawl going on, and it had taken mere seconds for it to spill out into the streets, startling residents but not really shocking them.

“Let it die out on its own,” his superior had said, taking no more than a half look at the fight before going back inside the bank.

Zhou Mi had been poised to do so, until he’d seen Kyuhyun. His wild little Kyuhyun had been on the back of some man who was attempting to trade blows with the brown clad man who’d soon become Zhou Mi’s Captain. He was flailing almost crazily, knocking the man of balance and delighting in the way the man he was perched on shouted madly for him to get off.

There’d been such fight in Kyuhyun. Such fire. 

The fight had gone on for minutes more, the then unknown Leeteuk and Yunho handling the large group of men fairly easily, Kyuhyun using his lithe form to dart around and help out where necessary.

When Kyuhyun stripped a man of his belt in one flawless move, causing the man to yelp and clutch at his pants comically, Zhou Mi had laughed. It was the first time he’d laughed in months, and it was fair to say he’d fallen in love with Kyuhyun in that moment.

Neither did it hurt that Kyuhyun was handsome. Zhou Mi saw quite a lot of people in a day, including men who’d had cosmetic work done and women who hid their natural imperfections with makeup. But Kyuhyun was different. With his unkempt hair, bold features and straight lines, he’d stood out. He’d have stood out in a crowd of a million, or a billion.

Few people had the kind of natural magnetism that Kyuhyun had.

Zhou Mi had gotten his spot on the ship as added muscle, not that Leeteuk hadn’t been filling the void before him adequately enough, because he’d seen the backup arrive and go straight for Kyuhyun during the fight. He’d seen one of the men pull Kyuhyun off his feet, level a fist into his stomach and rear back to start kicking.

And Zhou Mi had nearly killed the man for it.

Once on the ship, the Toshoshinki flying as far and fast from New Austen as possible, the Captain had slammed an ice pack down in front of him, said gruffly, “Put that on your eye, it’s starting to swell up,” and turned off to take care of Kyuhyun.

There’d been no official agreement of his joining the crew. No negotiation of wages. He’d simply known that his old job was gone, there were now close to a dozen men in New Austen who wanted him dead, and Kyuhyun was there on the Tohoshinki.

Later on Leeteuk would tell him, “You’re family now, right? Kyuhyun’s our little one. He just turned sixteen and the kid thinks he’s invincible. You pulled his ass out of the fire back there and that makes you worth a lot to the Captain.”

“I did what anyone else would do when faced with a group of grown men targeting a child.”

Leeteuk had grinned wide and spectacular with his unexpectedly perfect teeth. “Kyuhyun’s no child. But I guess you’ll find that out sooner, rather than later. Rest up. You deserve it.”

Leeteuk’s words had only been a mystery for as long as it took for Kyuhyun to seek him out the next day to flirt so terribly that Zhou Mi had to put him out of his mystery by kissing him on the spot. Years later, right before their wedding, Kyuhyun would confess to Zhou Mi likely the only thing he didn’t know about him, that Kyuhyun had loved Zhou Mi from the moment he’d seen him, too.

Now, snappishly, Leeteuk said, “Don’t you bring Heechul into this.”

Zhou Mi gave a silent nod. He couldn’t begin to understand why Leeteuk had taken up with Changmin’s Companion friend, or how they made such a relationship work, but neither was it his business. Though he did find it fascinating that not one credit had ever passed from Leeteuk to Heechul for services rendered, and it wasn’t likely to change. How did one acquire a Companion and never paid for them? Even Yunho had to float credits Changmin’s way to have any kind of access to him. 

“Your guess?”

Leeteuk frowned in a confused way. “What?”

Zhou Mi turned the data pad around. “For the crossword puzzle. Nine letters, beginning and ending with m. Optimistic philanthropy.”

Leeteuk threw up his hands a bit dramatically. “That’s the problem.”

“No, Leeteuk, it’s the answer.”

Leeteuk gave him an icy glare that had Zhou Mi dropping all guesses and waiting patiently.

“I saw the Captain this morning before breakfast,” Leeteuk told him seriously. “He’d shaven. He never shaves that early in the morning. He’s always afraid he’s still so asleep he’ll cut his own throat. But more than that, he put on aftershave! He hates the smell of aftershave, but it put it on anyway.”

Zhou Mi reasoned, “Maybe he just wants to clean up a bit. His style could be changing. Or he could merely be practicing for when we reach New Haven. He’ll have to pass for at least a respectable Core citizen if he’s going to accompany Changmin to the planet. I’m not sure why you’re getting so worked up over something as small as a shave.”

“There’s more,” Leeteuk insisted, reaching forward and pulling Zhou Mi’s data pad away so he wouldn’t be distracted. “What do you remember seeing at breakfast this morning?”

“Oatmeal.”

Leeteuk sighed. “I’m starting to think you’re the wrong person to talk to abut this. No, Zhou Mi. This morning is the first time the two passengers joined us. They didn’t yesterday morning, remember? Now, where did the Captain sit during the meal?”

At the question Zhou Mi had to think. Meals on the ship were a first come, first serve type of experience, even though they all ate frequently together. Chairs were of all types and sizes, some more comfortable than others, and places at the table always shifted around. Zhou Mi almost always took his meals seated next to Kyuhyun, but once in a while he’d get shuffled next to Ryeowook or Leeteuk.

Of course the Captain typically sat at the head of the table, out of tradition and routine, more than anything else.

“He sat next to that philanthropist,” Leeteuk supplied for Zhou Mi. 

So he had. Thinking back to the meal a few hours previous the Captain had sat in the middle for once, right next to one of their guests. The one Kyuhyun said went by the name Hero.

“How is this a problem?” Zhou Mi asked. “I hardly think the Captain was in mortal danger from a simple seating arrangement, no matter how much it varied from the normal.”

Leeteuk hastily agreed, “Not that. But did you see his face during the whole thing? He was … happy. He … smiled.”

Zhou Mi felt himself laugh, “The Captain has a crush.”

Leeteuk, who normally was a very quiet, reserved individual, gave a half glare. “Yes!”

Zhou Mi tried to recall more from the morning. But it was difficult. Zhou Mi hadn’t really been aware of much until the caffeine had kicked in around halfway through. And the rest of the meal had been dominated, like most of his life, by Kyuhyun. 

Because Kyuhyun, who’d still been sleeping when Zhou Mi got up to do his early rounds of the ship before breakfast, had come sauntering into the dinning area wearing some of Changming’s more stylish clothing, his hair quaffed, and the faintest trace of kohl around his eyes.

The kind of beauty that Kyuhyun was, was more than enough to distract Zhou Mi on a regular day, but all dolled up like a high class courtesan?

Zhou Mi remembered the gold and red Kyuhyun had been wearing. He remembered the way Kyuhyun’s gorgeous brown eyes had popped, making him look a touch too young, almost like the way he’d seemed when Zhou Mi had first met him and learned he was the ship’s pilot. And the smell coming from him … cologne that probably cost a small fortune … it had taken a great deal of self control for Zhou Mi not to pull Kyuhyun from the table immediately and take him back to their bunk. 

Kyuhyun probably would have been game. Kyuhyun and his high sex drive always seemed game. 

But the Captain’s interactions with Hero? Zhou Mi hadn’t noticed those in the slightest.

“Why is the Captain having a small crush or attraction such a bad thing?”

Leeteuk looked almost like a petulant child. “It would be different if these passengers … these philanthropists were part of the crew. Or even staying on for a little more. But they’re only going to be with us a little longer, Mi. They’re getting off the day after tomorrow. And I don’t want …”

The Captain to get hurt. The Captain, who never opened up to anyone outside of who he considered family, never took a chance on love anymore because of what had happened in the past. Their Captain who was more susceptible to having his heart hurt than he let on. And who the rest of them had an unspoken agreement to look out for in all matters, including those of the heart.

Still, the Captain wasn’t a child, and it had been a long time since his heart had been broken. Maybe long enough now to heal a little. 

Gently, Zhou Mi said, “The Captain is a grown man. He can make his own choices, Leeteuk. And I assure you he’s very aware that we’ll be losing our passengers to the Moon Hub.”

With unease, Leeteuk said, “That’s a whole different matter there.”

“I agree,” Zhou Mi said, not looking forward to the Moon Hub in the least bit. “You’ll be making the delivery?”

Leeteuk dipped his head in the affirmative. “It’ll be best if the Captain doesn’t make the drop, and not just because he’s starting to develop feelings of some kind for a passenger. There are bound to be at least a few people on the station who want him dead, and a couple who might act on it. I’m sure there’ll be people there who want to kill me as well, but hopefully less so than the Captain. And I want to be in and out as quickly as possible. The Moon Hub … it makes my skin crawl even to be this close. All those rich bastards, thinking their money gives them the right to do those things …”

“And I bet they really get their jollies off knowing they’ve got more than enough money to pay the officials to look the other way,” Zhou Mi said.

“So I’ll make the drop quickly,” Leeteuk said with finality, “and I want you to stay here. Keep watch over the crew with the Captain. Particularly watch our Companion and Kyu. I don’t think I need to tell you that both of them would be targets. Ryeowook’s too smart for foolishness, but Kyu’s exceptionally curious and Changmin would fetch an unreasonable amount of attention. I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try anything with a licensed Companion, but you never know.”

Zhou Mi assured, “Don’t worry. It’ll be a fifteen minute exercise in your patience. The Captain and I won’t let anything happen to the ship while you’re gone. Though … the Captain is more than capable of taking care of things on his own. If you want a little backup, I’d be more than willing to go with you. A little extra intimidation is something you may want to consider.”

“I will,” Leeteuk promised. “I’d take Onew with me if he hadn’t gone and bleached his hair recently. He looks like a goddamn angel right now, especially with how pale he’s gotten, and thin. He used to be a force to be reckoned with. Now he’d be easy pickings.”

“For understandable reasons.”

Zhou Mi was doing his best now to avoid Onew without making it obvious or uncomfortable for the both of them. If Onew was falling apart due to his grief, then Zhou Mi was holding himself together despite his guilt. It might have been him died and made Kyuhyun a widower. It might have been him in Joon’s place, taking a bullet to the chest, bleeding out before proper medical assistance could be rendered. 

And it should have been.

Onew knew, and so did Zhou Mi. 

“Where’s the Captain now?” Zhou Mi asked, taking his data pad back. “Is he with a certain philanthropist? Is that why you’re all worked up?”

Leeteuk clambered up to his feet, looking like he needed a vacation. Or maybe just a visits to his Companion. Ariel wasn’t that far away, though if the plan on New Haven miraculously worked, they’d have to lay low for a while. And Alliance heavy places like Ariel would be off limits for a while. 

As expected, Leeteuk said, “The Captain’s busy giving one of them, the one he likes, Hero, a ship tour. He’d never given anyone a ship tour before. Though I suppose if it’s any consolation the other one, Micky, looks like he’s been sucking a lemon over the whole thing.”

“Jealous?” Zhou Mi wondered.

“No,’ Leeteuk said confidently. “More … worried.”

There weren’t many certainties in the world they lived in, but Zhou Mi could say without doubt, “The Captain isn’t the type to take advantage of someone, or take a partner who isn’t completely willing. Neither does it seem like our philanthropist might still be untouched at his age.”

“That’s hard to say.” Leeteuk stretched and shrugged. “We picked him up on Helios, and I saw the way he was dressed, let alone the way he stood and talked. Mi, Alliance families are very controlling, and often very unhappy. And the things they do to their children ...”

This was something Zhou Mi had never heard before. “They what?”

Leeteuk looked disgusted. “Before they’re born a lot of them undergo genetic sequencing and manipulation. The Alliance tries to regulate this, but as you know, money can buy anything. The wealthier families can have designer babies if they want, and they usually do. They can make their children look and desire whatever they want. You want your baby to be artistically inclined, okay. You want your baby to be ambitious and driven, okay.”

“That’s …” 

“Horrible,” Leeteuk said. “What makes people interesting is how different they are, and how they become the people they are by their experiences and unique personalities and random chance. And that isn’t the worst of what parents can do to their children.”

“Tell me.”

“Behavior modification,” Leeteuk said, voice low so they couldn’t be overheard. “If parents think their children are too loud, too rambunctious, or just downright act in an undesirable way, they can have them modified. It’s a fancy way of lobotomizing their children, and making them more pliable. And some families … some of them, Mi, will remove or greatly reduce the part of the brain that makes people desire sex and love. They want their children to marry for political and economic reasons. It takes a lot of work and money to raise a child, and they’re a bit like investments. Parents don’t want to take the chance that their children might run off prematurely and marry the first person they fall in love with. So they make sure it’s unlikely to happen.”

The thought made Zhou Mi feel winded, like he’d run a mile or more. “You think Hero may have had this done to him?”

“Some of it at least,” Leeteuk said without hesitation. “All Alliance babies have something, but what, it’s impossible to say. Maybe he doesn’t even know. But I’d wager they haven’t tampered with his brain. I didn’t just watch the Captain earlier. I watched Hero, too. He’s just as interested in the Captain as the Captain is in him. It’s very mutual, and children who’ve had the pleasure center of their brain muted, don’t often show interest of the sexual or romantic kind.”

“Then let them be,” Zhou Mi decided. “The Captain can make his own choices, regardless of the consequences, and our guest is a grown man as well. Let them dance around each other. Let them flirt. It won’t matter in a few days. I know you want to spare the Captain unnecessary hurt, but it isn’t as if they’re going to fall in love over the next two days.”

Heading to the doorway, Leeteuk called back ,”You sure about that? How long did it take you to fall in love with Kyuhyun?”

With his perfect timing, Kyuhyun breezed past Leeteuk, asking, “Are you two talking about me?”

“Always,” Zhou Mi said, feeling himself brighten immediately from just seeing Kyuhyun. 

The younger pressed, “And I hope you’re saying nice things.”

Before Zhou Mi could answer, Leeteuk teased, “Never.”

Kyuhyun rolled his eyes and sat next to Zhou Mi, tucking into his side like it was second nature. “What were you guys doing in here?”

Zhou Mi showed Kyuhyun his data pad. “Leeteuk was helping me with my crossword. Or maybe distracting me. It’s hard to say. What are you doing here, Guixian?” He put an arm around Kyuhyun who was staring intensely at the crossword.

“Yunho, who apparently likes Hero now, and doesn’t want to throw him out the airlock like I thought he did, is showing him the bridge. All their sexual tension was suffocating me, so I decided to come see what you were doing. I’m greatly disappointed.”

Zhou Mi laughed and kissed the side of Kyuhyun’s head, mostly because he knew it annoyed him. Kyuhyun was hardly a tactile person, not compared to someone like Zhou Mi himself. Kyuhyun liked affection, but not an excess of it, and being overly so was the fastest way to irritate him.

“Just because my crosswords aren’t as stimulating as your games, doesn’t mean they’re boring.” He kissed Kyuhyun again for good measure. “And you’re not the only one apparently suffocating by their attraction to each other.”

Kyuhyun tucked his legs up under him and posed, “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

Zhou mi asked, “Have you ever seen the Captain show an interest in someone since he got his heart broken? You have his ear more than anyone next to Changmin.” Typically either Zhou Mi or Leeteuk went out with the Captain for jobs that required any kind of man power, but none of that could compete with the hours of quiet conversation that the Captain and Kyuhyun engaged in late at night when the rest of the ship was asleep. 

“Once,” Kyuhyun allowed slowly and seriously. “But it didn’t go anywhere, and it kind of demoralized him, which is why I find this the most confusing. The Captain has to know he’ll never see Hero again. Or even if they do keep in contact, they won’t be able to have a real relationship.”

Zhou Mi agreed. “Maybe it’s not as serious as you and Leeteuk think it is. Maybe this is just a case of two people enjoying each other’s company more than either of them expected. People who end up good friends can initially have sexual chemistry.”

Kyuhyun scoffed, “There was nothing friendly in the way the Captain was pressed up behind Hero, using the radar system as an excuse to be that close to him.”

Well. Wasn’t that something.

“Regardless,” Zhou Mi said, “it’s time for you to get back to work, Guixian. Run those two out of the bridge if necessary, but get up there. I have to go, too.”

Kyuhyun scrambled up to his feet, reached a hand down for Zhou Mi and with surprising strength, pulled him up to his feet. He leaned up against the taller Zhou Mi for a proper kiss, and as a way of parting he said, “Meliorism.”

Zhou Mi tugged his hand to keep him in place. “What’s that?”

Kyuhyun, with a sly expression said, “Your crossword, Mi. The last word you need. It means the belief that things ultimately get better, and people can be a part of making that happen. Optimistic philanthropy.”

Kyuhyun disappeared around the corner and Zhou Mi looked quickly down to his crossword, then to where Kyuhyun had been standing.

Kyuhyun never ceased to stop amazing him.

But if there was something else that didn’t let up, for Zhou Mi it had to be his curiosity. 

It lurked at the back of his mind for the rest of the morning, distracting him from mundane but important ship tasks. And it was still there for the lunch, hour persisting into the evening as well. It was relentless and it made him restless. At least until he couldn’t take it any longer.

Long after Kyuhyun had gone to bed and was snoring softly next to him, Zhou Mi donned his ship shoes, his jacket and prepared to walk the ship until he was tired enough to go to sleep. Or content enough to pretend he was until the morning came.

Kyuhyun hated that he was such an insomniac. He hated that too frequently he’d leave the warmth of their bed and not be there incase Kyuhyun had a nightmare.. The nightmares themselves were waning with time, becoming less and less aggressive, but they still occurred once in a while. And they were more like terrors, frightening years off Zhou Mi’s life as he inevitably clutched at a screaming, thrashing Kyuhyun.

Zhou Mi must have walked for hours. Up and down the same pathways, same ladders, same spaces. He never kept track of his wandering, merely letting himself go until he felt satisfied.

But just as he was starting turn back, the call of Kyuhyun’s warmth and intimacy with his husband too strong to ignore for much longer, he heard the soft murmuring of voices.

Other people being awake on the ship at ungodly hours was nothing new or unexpected. Currently Leeteuk was on the bridge. The Captain never seemed to sleep these days. And neither did Onew for that matter. Any one of them could be talking to each other … or even to themselves. Kyuhyun talked to the ship. Ryeowook talked while he was cooking.

It was where the voices were coming from that was far more interesting. 

Everyone on the ship had a spot. It was the one place they tended to lurk more than anything else. For crewmen like Onew it was easy to guess where he spent most of his time. For the Captain, who roamed the ship endlessly, it was what he’d nicknamed the ship’s sweet spot. He went every chance he got, and he rarely took people with him. It was his thinking spot. 

Maybe Changmin was with him?

Zhou Mi’s curiosity got the better of him.

Getting to the sweet spot required a tight squeeze past a narrow passageway of bulkheads that were partially exposed and somewhat falling apart. You had to duck down through a low ceiling, traverse a rickety walkway and avoid being hit by any of the hanging circuitry that was barely holding on. The ship held together for the most part, but in the less traveled parts of her hold, plenty of her age showed.

Trailing after the voices Zhou Mi was forced to struggle along the way, almost going back twice before he recognized one voice as belonging to the Captain, and another so unfamiliar it had to be one of their passengers.

Zhou Mi had a very good idea which one it was.

“Look there,” the Captain said, his voice becoming more clear as Zhou Mi came ever closer. “See that cluster of stars there?”

“I see,” the second voice said eagerly. “The one kind of shaped like a crescent?”

False accusation laced the Captain voice as he asked, “You already know what it’s called.”

“No, I swear,” a pleased voice responded. “Tell me.”

“There’s a story,” the Captain said, sounding not at all as stressed as he usually did. In fact he sounded like he was enjoying himself. “A story about those stars together in that cluster there. It’s an old tale, the kind that Changmin could probably tell you a million times better than me, about how one of the old gods was born with a frown on his face. And no matter how his sisters and brothers tried to cheer him up, creating beautiful mountains, plowing incredible rivers, and even creating an endless cycle of sunrises and sunsets, nothing could put a smile on the god’s face.”

“But …”

Zhou Mi peeked around the corner just enough to see that he had been right. The Captain was there, at what he liked to call his sweet spot, leaning on the railing he’d set up the one and only time Kyuhyun had climbed into the space and promptly fallen, shattering one of the bones in his left forearm. 

And near him, impossibly near, was the apple of the Captain’s eye. Hero. 

They were standing shoulder to shoulder, arms braced on the metal railing of the raised platform their feet were planted on. And all around them the endless windows covered them in stars. Even from where Zhou Mi stood, his breath was stolen away.

The Captain chuckled, smiling so much with his eyes that they nearly sparkled. “One by one the other gods and goddesses gave up on making their sad brother smile. All except for one.”

Wonder on his face, Hero leaned in even closer, his chest rising and falling evenly in a way that indicated perfect ease. 

“Tell me,” Hero urged, his eyes turning back to the constellations. His head tipped back to see them fully and with the light of the stars, shining down on his skin, Zhou Mi did think he truly looked beautiful. “Tell me how it ends.”

The Captain held up a single finger. “There was one goddess who refused to give up. She was born of utter love and joy, and she wouldn’t let her brother go without experiencing what she did every moment of every passing day. So she took the best parts of herself, including her ability to love, her compassion for others, her happiness, and her perchance for charity. Then she thrust them up into the sky in this shape, a crescent that looks a bit like a smile, right? Her brother had no choice then but to become the god who smiled. How could he not? After all his sister did for him?”

Hero sighed happily. “That’s a wonderful story.”

Zhou Mi recognized the way the Captain was gazing at the other man in the moment. He recognized it all too well.

“Like all the old stories, it baits you with the good stuff.”

“It’s sweet,” Hero argued.

The Captain tipped his own head back. “The rest of the story goes something like the god who smiled was so moved to happiness by sister, that he wanted to do something himself to retain her memory.”

Zhou Mi himself had only heard the story once, so he was just as interested as Hero who snapped towards Yunho and demanded, “Why would he need to remember her?”

Gingerly, the Captain said, “The young goddess of love took all the best parts of herself. She tore out what made her who she was. There was nothing left of her to exist.”

Hero’s shoulders fell and he turned to rest his back against the railing, blocking the stars from sight. Zhou Mi had to press himself backwards quickly to avoid being seen. 

“This story is less sweet now.”

“Like I said,” the Captain reminded, “the old stories, they bait you with the nice stuff, then hit you with the punch at the end. But the story ends well, I swear.”

With some reluctance, Hero finally said, “Okay. How does it end?”

“The god who smiled, thanks to his sister’s sacrifice, was so moved that he wanted to both remember her and show his appreciation. So he took the parts of him that had kept him from happiness, the darkness in him and the endlessness, and he became the space around his sister’s stars. So now they’re together, forever. She smiles for him in the form of her stars and he protects that smile, in the form of the space all around her.”

Sounding almost childlike in his tone, Hero inquired, “Who told you this story? This sounds like a bedtime story a mother would tell a child. It’s nice like that.”

Zhou Mi found himself holding his breath at the mention of mothers. Family was a notoriously touchy subject for the Captain, not having much of it himself. He certainly didn’t like to talk about the parents who had abandoned him to the streets without so much as a warning, and with him much too young to survive on his own. 

“I guess,” the Captain said with a shrug, “I collect stories like this. I like them. I ask around for them. But Changmin is much better at telling stories than me, especially the ones about the old gods. When I went to see him this last time he was teaching some story to a bunch of companion initiates. Changmin’s got about a million stories up in his head, but I guess in a way the older companions were like mothers and fathers when they told the stories to him, and he’s like a father when he tells them to the younger kids. Didn’t your mother tell you stories as a kid?”

Tension ripped through Hero visibly.

The Captain reminded, “You don’t have to say anything to me you don’t want to. That’s the rule up here. The only kind of words that are given, are the kind that are given freely.”

Hero took a deep breath and said, “I have a younger sister. She’s absolutely brilliant. She’s a professional danger. A ballerina. But when she was born there were complications for my mother. My sister had a twin, who died during delivery, and my mother almost bled out. She lived, thankfully, and so did my sister, but when my mother came home she wasn’t the same. I don’t think she ever got over carrying a baby to term and then losing it at the last moment. My father didn’t even try to understand her pain, either. I don’t know if he couldn’t, or if he just didn’t want to.”

Accusingly, eyes narrowing, Yunho demanded, “Your father … he …” 

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Hero said quickly, a hint of fear in his voice. “My point in telling you all this is that I didn’t really have a mother to read me bedtime stories, or tell me old legends about the old r. ll screams an cries every time she sees my ister. days, and still can’t. A mother who lost all interest in being a mother to me the day her baby girl died, and who still screams and cries every time she sees my sister.”

The Captain inferred, “You raised your sister.”

Hero shot back confidently, “You raised your brother.”

At this, the Captain rebuked, “Hardly. I mean, the Companion Guild did most of the work.”

“No,” Hero said, his hand reaching out for Yunho’s shoulder. “You raised your brother,” he said definitively.

Zhou Mi took a step back, and then another. Leeteuk had been all worked up about the Captain and Hero, but the truth was it simply sounded like they needed each other to be a sounding board. Maybe each of them needed companionship. There was certainly nothing flirty about how they were speaking, or sexual. 

Zhou Mi was almost completely gone from earshot when he heard Hero say, “I want to apologize to you, Captain. I was terribly rude to you when we first met, and I judged you harshly. I made assumptions about your character, and I did this all while being afraid you were doing the same towards me. So I want to apologize. It was wrong to do so. You’re much different from how I first believed you to be, and I feel ashamed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Yunho asked him, an apology on his own face. “I’m the one who thought you were this … rich spoiled little boy. I wasn’t interested in seeing if my own assumptions of you turned out to be true or not. I wanted them to be. I wanted to be able to dislike you, because then I could keep on believing that the Alliance produces nothing but pompous, egotistical, arrogant citizens. The kind who are undeserving.”

“Then,” Hero suggested, “instead of offering apologies to each other, we should just start over?”

The Captain cleared is throat and straightened up. Zhou Mi could imagine the picture he made as he said, “My name is Jung Yunho, Captain of the Tohoshinki, and it’s very nice to meet you.”

Zhou Mi was squeezing back through the bulkheads he heard Hero reply, “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Captain. And the pleasure is all mine.”

Kyuhyun was awake and waiting for him when Zhou Mi returned to their bunk. He was sitting cross legged on the bed, dressed in one of Zhou Mi’s larger shirts, a patient smile on his face.

“Feeling restless again?”

Zhou Mi pulled his shirt over his head right away, kicked off his shoes and was working on his pants when he said, “I was. I’m better now. You’re awake. Bad dream?” 

Kyuhyun shook his head. “I just couldn’t sleep without you.”

What did it matter, Zhou Mi thought, if the Captain and Hero were building a romance or a mere friendship. They were sweet together, and just awkward enough to remind Zhou Mi of exactly how he’d been when he’d first started courting Kyuhyun.

“What are you thinking about?” Kyuyhun questioned, pulling a thick quilt up over them before hooking his leg between Zhou Mi’s.

“Nothing really,” Zhou Mi promised. “And nothing to worry over.”

Especially considering Hero, and his friend Micky, would be gone in a day.

“Go to sleep, Guixian,” Zhou Mi urged. 

In the window of their cabin, and with perfect clarity, Zhou Mi could see the crescent cluster of constellations. Shining in perfect formation, Zhou Mi didn’t think he’d ever overlook them in the blackness of space again.


	7. Seven: Yunho

The worst thing about the Moon Hub by far, at least from the outside, was how absolutely innocuous it looked. From approach it looked like any other busy space station in Alliance heavy territory, well maintained, busy, and reeking of money.

It would be different on the inside, but from the out ….

“And we’re cleared to dock,” Kyuhyun said, flipping a communications switch and pulling the controls of the ship back expertly. “We should establish a connection in just a few minutes, Captain.”

From the pilot’s chair Kyuhyun turned to look at Yunho expectantly..

Fighting down the absolutely nauseas feeling in his stomach with every second they were closer to the station, Yunho forced himself to nod. He clapped a hand on Kyuhyun’s shoulder and said, “Good job. Take us in.” They flew past an expensive looking luxury shuttle and Yunho felt decidedly out of place. Few people who didn’t have credits to burn came to the Moon Hub. And they were about to stand out like a sore thumb.

“Captain?”

Yunho leaned down to say near Kyuhyun’s ear, “I want you to keep the engines running. We might need to make a quick get away, just in case Leeteuk runs into any trouble making the drop. And you know we attract trouble like a bee to honey.”

“Got it,” Kyuhyun said seriously. “But do we really have to leave Hero and Micky here?”

“It’s what they want,” Yunho said, meaner than intended. “They’re paying customers, Kyuhyun.”

It didn’t matter in the least that Hero had steadily been creeping under everyone’s skin on the ship, making them smile, making them laugh. Making them care. Or even that Micky, for his initially gruff attitude, was an exceptionally good chess player and would take on anyone just to pass the time, and knew his way around the ship enough to lend a helping hand without being asked, and had started to show Ryeowook some of the dessert recipes he knew. How a man like Micky even knew how to turn on their stove …

The point was, at least in Yunho’s rationale, that it didn’t matter how easily the two of them had seemingly become a part of the crew. Especially in the past few days. It was irrelevant that meals didn’t start until they were there, or that Hero could often be found doting on a much younger Kyuhyun like a mother almost, caring for him and the other crew members in the way Yunho was too busy to.

They were getting off. It was what they wanted.

And it wasn’t like Yunho could ask them to stay.

He couldn’t ask Hero to stay.

“But …” Kyuhyun trailed off, a pout on his face.

Yunho wanted Hero to stay more than he’d wanted anything in a while. Hero, who he’d been so wrong about and allowed himself to prematurely judge, much to his embarrassment. Hero, who was quiet and thoughtful, compassionate and curious. Yunho wanted Hero to stay on, at least for a while longer, if only to try and figure out if he fit as well as Yunho thought he did. Hero, who looked at him like he wasn’t a killer, and was so beautiful and kind.

Hero, who made Yunho feel wanted by just being in his company.

Hero, who stirred something up in Yunho that could distinctly be pinpointed as affection.

Hero, who was leaving them now.

“Just do what I said,” Yunho ordered, then he turned on heel and ducked out of the bridge. 

Yunho traced the ship’s exiting passengers to Changmin’s room where he was busy fitting them both with heavy cloaks that looked a bit awkward on both of them, but did their job well enough. On Miky the extra material around him seemed a little too small for his stature, but on Hero the clothing was simply too short.

“Here we go,” Changmin remarked, looking especially handsome in a blue tunic. Yunho could always find time to be distracted by his brother slightly. He disliked thinking about Changmin’s profession, as any older brother or father did, but he could absolutely understand why Changmin was in constant demand. All Companions were beautiful, but some were in a class above others, and of that designation Changmin was a part of. 

“We’re here,” Yunho said, clearing his throat and announcing his presence.

“Thank you,” Micky said distractedly, pulling at the cloak’s material, trying to master how to move fluidly in it. 

Hero refused to turn to Yunho, though the Captain could see the pull in his shoulders like he wanted to. Yunho wanted to tell him it was okay, and that Yunho didn’t want him to leave any more than he wanted to. But he didn’t think that would go over well.

Eyes crinkled in a smile, Changmin said, “You have such pretty eyes, Hero. That’s something to be proud of. But not on the Moon Hub. So we’re going to pull up the hood here and get the fit right.”

Yuho made sure he moved no further into the room, instead watching from the doorway as a hood was pulled up and Hero’s appearance was hidden from them completely.

“Isn’t this going to draw more attention?” Hero wondered.

“You’ll be fine,” Changmin assured, smoothing out the wrinkles. “And you might be surprised how many people around you will be attempting to hide their identities. You’ll blend right in.”

“Okay,” Hero said quietly and Yunho felt the pit of despair in his stomach double in size.

While Hero endured Changmin’s fusing, Yunho drew Micky away. And when they were a respectable distance from Changmin’s room, Yunho held a pistol out to Micky, butt first.

“Captain?”

Yunho nodded to it more seriously. “You’re going to need this. Just in case. I don’t know if you’ve ever handled a gun before, and there are only six rounds so you’ll have to be extremely careful with what you use them on, but even if you don’t, the gun itself will be enough to frighten off anyone who thinks they can take advantage of you and Hero.”

Micky continued to stare at the gun as he said, “I have a contact. He’s going to meet us in the bar. He’s the one who’s going to get us on another ship and he said he’ll have a gun waiting for us there. I appreciate your concern, Captain, but--”

“Take it,” Yunho insisted, his nerves eating him alive. “Did you stop to consider that your contact might not show? Or might not be trustworthy? Take the gun just in case. Consider it security.”

“My contact will be there,” Micky said, but he reached for the gun anyway. “Thanks.”

Yunho found himself saying, “Just keep him safe, ok? He’s not like you or I. He’s not build for this kind of lifestyle.”

Tucking the gun away, Micky replied, “He’s not helpless you know. He’s endured more and survived more than you would surprised to learn about. He’s not some dainty little Alliance boy. He’s strong.”

Behind them Changmin appeared, calling out, “Micky? Can I see you for a moment?”

Micky shuffled out and Yunho felt the ship couple with the station. Clamps hissed into place and suddenly they were locked into position. He could feel the ship’s engines quiet quite a bit, but they remained on and humming in the periphery. 

“Captain?”

Yunho turned to find Hero next to him, not looking in the slightest like he wanted to be going anywhere. 

“This is it, I guess,” Yunho said, trying to keep things light between them. The last thing he needed to go and do was something stupid like asking Hero to stay. That would just go and make fools of them all. “You ready?”

“I’m terrified,” Hero said honestly. 

“That’s good, actually.” Yunho tried to soak up the sight of Hero. He’d never see the man after this . And likely never meet anyone like him again. “A little fear is always good. It’ll keep you alive in a bad situation.”

“Well, I feel a lot of fear.”

They were alone on the walkway so Yunho dared to move closer to him, trying to offer him a reassuring smile. “Listen, it’s okay to be scared. But you’re smart. And your friend? He’s capable. The both of you together are going to be just fine. The only thing you need to survive in space is a good head on your shoulders and a little luck. I’d say you’ve got both.”

Hero cracked him the thinnest of smiles. “I guess it is luck that I ended up on your ship.”

“Oh, you’re calling that luck?” Yunho teased.

Hero took a full step back and caught Yunho off guard completely by bowing deeply and respectfully to him. 

“What’s this?” Yunho asked, a little startled.

“Thank you,” Hero said, straightening up. “For accepting Micky and I onto your ship, and for keeping us safe, and making us feel wanted. Captain, thank you especially for the last part. We truly felt part of your crew these last few days, and I’ll never forget our time together.”

Damnit all.

In the half second it took Yunho to lose his mind completely he’d closed the distance between them like a flash of lightening, and grabbed Hero as firmly as he dared. “You could stay.” His voice was betraying him, going scratchy and desperate. “You don’t have to leave. No other ship or crew is going to take care of you like this one. Stay here. Stay with us.” Stay with me, he meant.

“I can’t,” Hero said, griping him back. “You’re going to opposite direction of the one I need to go in.” 

Yunho’s eyes narrowed. “Because you’re running from something. You’re running from someone. And that someone hurt you.”

“You don’t know anything,” Hero said shakily, voice at a whisper.

“I know you flinch whenever someone raises their voice. You mostly put your back to the wall, especially in places that make you uncomfortable, likely so no one can come up behind you or surprise you. And you choose your words very carefully, not because you’re eloquent, which you are, but because you’re afraid of saying the wrong thing. I’d guess because someone’s beat you before for speaking your mind.”

“This is none of your business.”

“I guess not,” Yunho said, not letting up on his grip for a second. “But I want you to know I’ll protect you, if you stay here.”

“No.” Hero shook his head right away. “I have to go towards the Rim. I can’t go any further towards the Core than this.”

“You can do whatever you want.” Yunho let go of him. “You’re being haunted by your past, but your whole future is ahead of you. I know, personally, how hard it is to grapple with the idea of having control of your own future, but trust me, it’s possible. And when you decide to take control of your own future, you don’t have to be scared of your past.”

There was something odd in the way Hero was looking at him and odder were his words, “You have no idea about my past, Captain, or how capable it is of hurting me.” 

Yunho shrugged. “I guess not. Only you know your past and what it’s capable of. But if you stay on the ship, we’ll be going to the rim right after our business near New Haven, and that’ll give you a chance to figure things out--to figure your future out.”

Hero’s fingers were cool and the touch light as he brought them up to Yunho’s jaw. “You want my future to be on this ship?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho said honestly, barely daring to breathe. “I just know I want to keep you near me. I feel something for you. My heart beats a little fast whenever I look at you, or talk to you.”

Voice stuttering a little, Hero said, “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Yunho. And I’ll admit, there’s something between us, something potentially worth investing in … but …”

Hero was so close, smelling so sweet and fresh despite having lived in a ship for three whole days, that Yunho wanted to do nothing more than kiss him. He wanted to kiss Hero and let his actions stand as testament.

“I’m opening her up!” Leeteuk called from a distance.

The rumble of the airlock opening ruined everything. 

“If I had a choice,” Hero confided, “I would want to stay here, where you treat your friends like they’re family. I would want to discover what my feelings are for you. But that’s not a reality, and it’s not an option.”

Yunho didn’t walk Hero to the airlock. And there were no more words exchanged between them. Instead he stood back, and without a single additional protest, watched Leeteuk lead Hero and Micky away.

Even when Hero looked back for him, neck straining for a glimpse, Yunho kept himself our of sight.

“You’re quite possibly the stupidest person I’ve ever met in my life, Yunho.”

Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I love you too, Changmin.”

His slipper covered feet slapping against the metal walkway, Changmin charged to Yunho’s side and demanded, “How could you just let them leave like this? How could you let Hero leave?”

“Minnie,” Yunho said, trying to cling to a calmness. “They wanted to come here. They paid a more than fair price to get out here. That’s what this is, and that’s all it’ll ever be. A business translation.”

“You’re such a liar,” Changmin eased out, but his voice was less harsh now. “You have feelings for Hero, don’t you? Real feelings.”

“I have feelings for everyone,” Yunho replied. “Like right now, for instance, I have a feeling that I’m about to try and strangle my brother to death for being irritating.”

“Yunho.”

Yunho sighed. “I’m not in love with him. That would be ridiculous.”

“Of course,” Changmin agreed, “but you don’t have to be in love with someone to have serious or deep feelings for them. And I saw the way you looked at him. Everyone saw the way you looked at him. You wanted him to stay.”

Yunho said almost bitterly, “I asked him to stay. He said no.”

Changmin’s face fell. “Oh.”

Yunho wasn’t sure what it was, but something made him want to tell Changmin, “He wanted to stay though. I could tell. It was written all over his face how badly he wanted to stay. He’s just scared of something. Or someone.”

Deflating in front of him, Changmin offered, “But this ship never stops in one spot for too long. He would be safe here.”

“He’d bring danger to us,” Yunho rebuffed. “Changmin, I thought he was jus some selfish, spoiled kid the first time I saw him, and even for a bit afterwards, but it think I know him better now. He doesn’t seem the type in the least bit, not from the time I’ve gotten to know him, to bring danger to people he cares about. He won’t stay because he doesn’t want to risk us, and because whatever is chasing him is a real threat.”

If Yunho had all the power in the world he’d force Hero to tell him what scared him so badly, and more than that, he’d make sure the threat was eliminated. In a perfect world, he’d be able to do all that.

After a few moments of silence, Changmin said, “This is a bad idea. Letting him go off on his own, even if he has his friend with him. Not all men are as honorable as you, Yunho. Most aren’t. Someone is going to take advantage of him and rob him, or worse. We can’t just let him leave.”

Through the airlock Yunho could see the masses of people passing along, most of them either large, dangerous looking, or obvious brothel workers. Near the airlock Zhou Mi was standing guard, arms cross over his chest in a defensive stance. He’d make sure none of the residents or visitors wandered too near the ship until Leeteuk returned.

“We can’t make him stay,” Yunho said, and that was what it came down to. He could offer Hero a place on the ship, be it temporary or more, and even extend the offer to his friend, but not much else was an option.

“Yunho …”

A rough laugh forced its way from Yunho. “But come on, Changmin, what could we really have to offer him? I love the ship, but she’s not exactly the newest model, and she needs constant repair work. I can’t offer any kind of stability to someone who’s had nothing but that their entire life. Sometimes we take risky jobs that could put us on the Alliance’s radar and certainly not in a good way. I’m not easy to get along with when I’m stressed or upset or angry, which face it, is a lot of the time. And I don’t have much money. Anyone who stays on as a crew member, won’t have much of it either.”

Changmin dipped forward, taking a moment to rest his forehead on Yunho’s shoulder. “You said you thought Hero was a spoiled Alliance kid the first time you saw him. You don’t think that way anymore, right?”

Yunho shook his head. “Not even close.”

“Then,” Changmin said slowly, “what makes you think for one second that Hero cares anything about money. Isn’t he trying to catch a ride to the Rim? Something tells me he won’t have a lot of money out there, and he’ll have to work hard for what he does manage to earn. Money to a man like Hero, and I’ve seen the sort before, Yunho, isn’t a priority.”

From down near the airlock Zhou Mi called up, “Leeteuk just made the drop, Captain. He’s on his way back. Only a few minutes out.”

“Truth is,” Yunho said, straightening up, “I can’t keep someone like Hero safe. I can barely keep the crew that I have safe, and gods know I’m about to go leading them into the worst kind of danger. But I would have liked to try.”

He wasn’t in love. Love came after knowing someone for a while, learning their likes and dislikes, their personality, and all the components that went into making a human being. Love came after the initial attraction and the honeymoon stage. Love came with time. But the groundwork for love … that could be there in an instance, and it certainly felt like it was starting to lay down for Yunho. He’d never know, now, how far he could have gotten with Hero, though he’d certainly sensed the other man had an interest in him too. No, he’d only have to be content with the few days he had had, and the daydreams that kept him awake through nights without sleep.

Yunho threw an easy arm around his taller brother. “It doesn’t matter now, Changmin. You heard Mi. Leeteuk made the drop. Our package is off. There’s no getting him back now.”

Changmin gave him a sad expression.

“What?”

“We’ve been family a very long time,” Changmin told him, mouth set into a frown. “And I have never seen you pay attention to someone like you did Hero.”

Yunho gave him a weak chuckle. “I’m not exactly a blushing virgin, Minnie.”

“No,” his brother agreed, “but that was different. Having sex with a person doesn’t require feelings in the least bit, only the sating of needs. But the care you took with Hero, the patience and tenderness … Yunho. You can’t just let him go. I can see how much he means to you already. If he’s this important to you now, imagine what he could be in a year or more.”

The thought was truly scary. Maybe even scarily wonderful.

“Let it go,” Yunho said, pulling away. “I’m letting him go, so you let this go.”

Instead of heading down to the airlock to wait for Leeteuk to return empty-handed, instead Yunho went directly to the bridge where Kyuhyun was bent over a data pad, playing a video game.

“Hey!” Yunho knocked him over the back of the head. It wasn’t hard enough to cause any real damage, but it was a wakeup call his young friend needed. “Pay attention. We’re in the proverbial lion’s den. The time for games is later.”

Kyuhyun straightened up a bit. “Okay. Sheesh. You’re so mean.”

“Pay attention,” Yunho said again, settling into the seat slightly to the side. “Sometimes you make me worry that I put my ship into your hands.”

“These hands?” Kyuhyun wiggled his fingers at Yunho. “Don’t kid yourself. You couldn’t be safer with any other pilot in the ‘verse.”

And if that wasn’t the truth, Yunho didn’t know what was. He’d seen Kyuhyun do some pretty amazing things with a ship, and he’d long since stopped doubting his natural talent for pilot’s intuition. 

“Captain?” Zhou Mi called over the ship intercom. “Leeteuk’s back and I’m sealing the airlock now. We’re good to go.”

“Good,” Yunho replied back to him. He leaned over to flip a switch and said, “Fire her up, Kyuhyun. I’ll do a quick headcount and we’re good to go.”

Onew reported in first, the swooshing of the engine behind him almost blocking his call out completely. And Ryeowook wasn’t far behind him, asking for an extra thirty seconds to lockdown a couple of things in the kitchen he’d been fussing with earlier. Changmin, as expected, ignored him.

“He’s mad at you,” Kyuhyun said knowingly. 

“He wanted me to make Hero and Micky stay,” Yunho revealed without much fanfare. He supposed it was pointless to hide what Changmin was going to hang over his head for a while. Yunho thought he’d be lucky if in his thank you letter for attending the wedding, Changmin didn’t add it in at the bottom in small print. 

“Changmin,” Yunho ground out over the intercom. “You’re holding us all up with your tantrum. Stop embarrassing me in front of the other kids.”

“He’s not going to answer you,” Kyuhyun said knowingly. 

Feeling lenient, Yunho gave him another minute before calling down to Leeteuk, “Check in on Changmin, please. He’s holding up our headcount and he can sulk all he wants once we get away from this place.”

Yunho tapped his fingers on the consul in front of him. Changmin was naturally a little difficult to handle, complicated and unique. But he usually wasn’t a total brat like he was being now. 

“Leeteuk?”

A half second later, voice sounding a little short of breath, “Ah, Captain, I can’t find him.”

Immediately Yunho’s head snapped over to Kyuhyun. He asked over the intercom, “What exactly does that mean?”

“Well … he’s not in his room, or any of the other places safe to be in for takeoff. I could always check--”

Yunho stopped listening, icy fear flushing through him. He was digging frantically at his restraints as next to him, Kyuhyun supposed, “You don’t think …”

“Damnit,” Yunho hissed, his restraints getting tangled up in his rush. “I do think. Shut down the engines now!”

He broke free with a rush, sprinting from the engine room, terror overtaking his mind. Changmin was so damn impulsive. And he had to have known they’d do a headcount before leaving. 

“Leeteuk!” Yunho shouted, sliding down the stairs as fast as humanly possible. “Get the airlock open now.”

His long time friend was there a second later, hands moving frantically over the airlock keypad as the ship went silent under them. “What’s going on?” Leeteuk asked in a huff.

Yunho could feel himself practically vibrating with fear.

“Captain?” Zhou Mi was behind them just after that. 

“What’s taking so long!” Yunho slammed his hand angrily on the wall nearby.

Leeteuk didn’t look away from the mechanism, but he did answer, “We disengaged the airlock and started departure procedures. Getting a safe connection again isn’t an instant thing.”

Yunho whirled on Zhou Mi. “Did you take your eyes off this airlock? Even for a second?”

Zhou Mi gave a reluctant nod. “Ryeowook asked me to help him for a second. I was gone for thirty seconds at the most.”

Changmin would have needed half that time to slip past Zhou Mi and onto the station.

“You don’t think Changmin is out there?” Leeteuk asked in disbelief. They had a secure connection just as he finished his sentence, and the doors were hissing open much too slowly just after that. “No one would dare touch a Companion, Yunho!”

“They wouldn’t bother to check first!”

Yunho left them all behind him, squeezing through the still opening airlock the second it was just big enough for his form. His legs were pumping as quickly as he could make them and he dove into the crowd in front of them, pushing and shoving and ignoring all protests of rough behavior.

All he could concentrate on was the fact that Changmin was on the Moon Hub. He was wandering through shark infested waters, trying to track down their previous passengers, probably with the intent to try and convince them not to leave. 

And Changmin was doing it for him.

If anything happened to Changmin …

“Move!” he shouted angrily, pushing past a few people who were blocking a side street that would take him in the direction all the signs were pointing to for the bar’s location. There was no way Changmin hadn’t heard either Yunho or Leeteuk mention that Hero and Micky were headed in that direction. If by some miracle Changmin made it that far, Yunho had to get there as fast as possible. 

He flashed past a young man wearing blue and it reminded Yunho of the bright blue tunic Changmin had been wearing. That tunic had hugged him perfectly, highlighting his long legs and lithe form, and it would attract all the wrong eyes.

Behind him Leeteuk and Zhou Mi were probably giving chase, but Yunho couldn’t spare anything for their consideration. The only thing that mattered was his brother.

Unexpectedly the crowd of people ahead thickened and Yunho plowed directly into what essentially amounted to a impenetrable wall. No matter how hard he pushed or tried to slip through he was stuck, and there were people pushing in behind him, trapping him.

Yunho felt the sweat collect under his arms and across his forehead and he began to struggle, drawing in breaths quicker and quicker. 

He wasn’t one to panic, but something was happening and he couldn’t so much as move, let alone get away.

The crowd, only growing in size, gave a sudden lurch to the side, and Yunho almost lost his feet under him. Some of the people around him did, and they went down quickly. Before Yunho could reach for anyone they were being crushed by the feet around them.

Women screamed, men shouted, and suddenly it was a riot.

When Yunho has been younger, after Changmin had left to train to become a Companion, and right around the time puberty was beginning to set in, he’d shot up in height. Most of the boys his age were starting to do the same, but it became clear to Yunho very early on that he was going to be taller than most. When the boys around him stopped growing, Yunho kept going on. He’d never be as tall as Changmin, but he was still very tall in his own right.

Changmin thought it was something eternally funny that he, as the younger brother, had ended up being taller. 

Regardless, Yunho had been tall from a young age, and it had actually worked in his favor. He’d been teased for it, mostly from those who were jealous, but work came easier to him because of his height. Employers were more likely to take a chance on him because he looked bigger than the other workers, and more capable. 

In fact his friendship with Leeteuk had started because of his height, at least in a roundabout way. 

Yunho liked to think, when he gave it some thought (which was actually rarely), that he was gifted his height for a reason. And this had to be it. There was no other moment it could be for. This was the moment in his life when his height would be of its most importance.

Because if he couldn’t go through the crowd, he’d go over.

Using the man’s shoulder next to him for a boost, Yunho launched himself up and atop the people around him. Turning over onto his back for better stability, he shouted, “Changmin!” and hoped desperately the crowd would either carry him to the fringes so he could get out, or towards whatever the commotion was about so it could be dealt with. 

Yunho was very aware of the weight of his pistol on his hip, and his willingness to use it on anyone who stood between himself and his brother.

The crowd initially nearly buckled under his sudden weight, but like the flow of a river, he was quickly moving, shouting, “Changmin! Changmin, where are you?”

Part of him hadn’t expected an answer of any kind. The crowd was impossibly loud, screams were rising, and his ears were ringing from the volume of it all. 

But then faintly, just loud enough to be heard like a poorly resonating echo, he heard, “Yunho!”

It wasn’t Leeteuk’s voice, or Zhou Mi’s. It was most certainly wasn’t Changmin’s.

“Changmin!’

“Yunho!’ came the reply and it was closer this time.

As the crowd passed him around, Yunho twisted, looking desperately for the color blue. There were too many brunets for him to even begin to attempt to pick out Changmin from the crowd, but there were only a few people wearing the color blue that Changmin was.

Without warning the crowd parted. They dropped him quickly to the ground and before Yunho could right himself and get his bearings, someone was on him, slugging a hand into his ribs, shouting with unchecked aggression.

It was a few moments more before Yunho realized, swiping the man’s feet out from under him and delivering a crunch of force to his nose that surely must have broken something, that the crowd had parted because of the massive fight currently occurring.

Yunho ducked under a man swinging for his head and called out Changmin’s name frantically. 

Companions were trained in self defense, fencing, and more cultured arts of attack. Changmin was no doubt capable of fending off a grabby suitor, but a street brawl? One participated by ruffians and thugs? 

“Changmin!”

Once more Yunho heard his name, but it wasn’t Changmin who’d called it. 

It was Hero.

Yunho turned just in time to avoid the lunge of a man who’d been fixated on him, and he could see just across the street Hero struggling with a man nearly twice his size. It didn’t appear, at least, that the man was attempting to attack him, but there was no mistaking the grabbing that was happening, and the man’s intent.

“Hero!”

Changmin would, gods forgive him, have to wait. Hero was in front of him, and Yunho had to help him.

Nearly flipping over someone who’d fallen in front of him, Yunho made his way to Hero. The absolute fear on Hero’s face as a strong motivator, and Yunho briefly had time to wonder where Mickey was before he was coming up on the man pulling at Hero.

“Get off of him!” Spinning him around Yunho bent his arm back and with one strong motion he snapped it to the point of breaking. Yunho didn’t hear it snap, not with all the noise around them, but he certainly heard the man wail in pain as he collapsed face first into the dirt, clutching his lifeless arm.

“Yunho,” Hero breathed out, wetness in his eyes, but no tears on his cheeks. “You’re here. How are you here?”

“Are you okay?” Yunho demanded, holding him back at arm’s length to get a good look at him. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No.” Hero shook his head quickly. “I’m fine. Yunho--”

From the ground the man wailed, “You broke my fucking arm!”

Yunho delivered a swift kick down to the man’s head, rendering him unconscious, then he sucked in a full lungs worth of air and asked Hero, “Have you seen Changmin?”

Hero’s eyes widened. “He’s here? In this?”

“Move!’ Yunho cried out suddenly, pulling Hero to the side more harshly than he’d intended, but getting them both away from two men who were locked together, doing their best to throw the other to the ground.

And in that moment, for once brief instance, Yunho saw blue.

“I lost Micky in the crowed!” Hero shouted, but everything else was forgotten for Yunho. 

Pulling Hero behind him, determined to keep him safe at least for the duration of the riot, Yunho headed directly toward the blue, shouting, “Changmin! It’s Yunho!”

Hero squeezed Yunho’s hand firmly and Yunho felt a burst of strength.

When Yunho got his first real look at Changmin, it was with some pride that he noticed Changmin was very much holding his own. There were several men on the ground around him wailing in pain, and Yunho watched as Changmin delivered a strong kick to another who was added to the pile.

“Changmin!” Yunho was forced to swerve around a group of men all brawling exclusively with each other.

His ear picked up sirens just after that, which meant the Alliance soldiers on the station had finally been able to tear themselves away from their paid services to quiet down the riot. It also meant they’d be minutes away from arresting people indiscriminately, and Yunho couldn’t afford to let himself or any of his crew be part of that group.

“I see Micky!” Hero called out happily, pointing off in a direction Yunho couldn’t turn to look at.

Changmin. His focus was Changmin. Changmin was too near the center of the brewing gunfight--too surrounded by danger.

It was a single pistol shot at first, which caused Yunho to skid to a stop, immediately dragging Hero’s head down to be covered protectively by his arms.

Then it was as if the single shot, its origin completely untraceable in the moment, had opened the floodgates.

There were more shots being fired than Yunho could count, and with each one he winced. His knees hit the dirt ground with pain and force, and he pulled Hero with him. They huddled on the ground as the sirens picked up, the screaming turning even more shrill, and the riot’s tension dissolving just shortly afterwards.

Thirty seconds later the last shot was fired, and after just enough of a pause to indicate that there’d be no more, Yunho was sprinting for Changmin. 

Oh, gods, Changmin.

He was there just in time to catch his brother as he fell, his pupils completely blown, his hands pushing weakly at his stomach where blood was gushing out.

“Changmin!”

Yunho couldn’t think. He couldn’t act. He couldn’t breathe!

Changmin was shot. He was shot and now he was gasping for air, mumbling in a confused way, “Yunho? Yunho, I don’t feel so good.”

Changmin gave a piercing cry as Yunho slammed his hand down on the wound. “I know, I know,” Yunho choked out, his eyes burning with tears. “Changmin, I’m so sorry. I know you’re in pain, I know, but we have to stop the bleeding.”

“Yunho,” Changmin gasped out, eyes starting to roll up into his head. “I’m shot.”

“Doctor!” Yunho screamed hoarsely. “We need a fucking doctor!”

The Moon Hub was sure to have a midwife on call, and a medic who probably catered specifically to the whores, but a doctor?

The chances of finding a doctor who could save Changmin before he bled out everywhere …

Without warning a new set of hands were next to Yunho’s putting even more pressure on Changmin’s wound. 

“Yunho,” Hero said, snapping him out of his daze. “Yunho. Listen to me very carefully.”

Yunho couldn’t look away from Changmin. His brother, who now looked so tiny, half collapsed on the ground, half in Yunho’s arms, was bleeding out. He was pale and small and too young to be inflicted with such a wound. And he was going to die.

Oh, Changmin.

“Yunho!”

A harsh slap to the side of the face made Yunho look quickly to Hero who was now inspecting Changmin’s wound. “Changmin is losing a lot of blood. We need to move him to a sterile environment if I’m going to save his life. Yunho, does your ship have an infirmary?”

Barely able to find his voice, Yunho nodded and said, “It’s still stocked from the last time we had a doctor. But Hero …”

“I’m a doctor,” Hero said, “a surgeon. I want to save Changmin’s life, but that’s only going to happen if we get him to that infirmary in the next forty-five seconds. If he loses too much blood I won’t be able to do anything for him. Yunho, we have to move him now!”

Changmin’s bloody fingers caught Yunho’s sleeve and his brother whined far too weakly.

“Here,” a stranger said, coming into view to crouch next to them. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you carry him back to your ship as fast as possible and you take me with you.”

“What?” Yunho demanded.

“Yunho!” Hero shouted. “Hurry.”

“You have to take me with you,” the stranger said once more, anxiety clouding his features. 

A whistle sounded and the soldiers were suddenly there, wrestling people to the ground, moving systematically through the crowed.

“Yunho,” Changmin mumbled, then his eyes were closing and he was going slack.

“Fine,” Yunho snapped, then he and the stranger lifted Changmin and took off at a run, Hero jogging behind them.

To Yunho, the next few minutes were like a dream. He remembered running, he remembered his chest heaving for air from exertion, and he remembered looking at the stranger who was half carrying his brother and wondering who he was. He even remembered throwing open the infirmary doors and directing Changmin’s body to the nearby bed.

After that, however, things blurred. Things became hazy. Things stopped mattering. 

Hero slammed the door to the infirmary, keeping him out, and Yunho’s legs failed him.

Faces swam into view, Zhou Mi’s, Leeteuk’s, Ryeowook’s, even Micky’s. 

And the ground beneath him shook, the ship purring to life.

Nothing made sense at all, and the blood on his hands, Changmin’s blood, dried, was cracking when Yunho experimentally flexed his fingers.

“Yunho?” Leeteuk asked, crouching in front of him. “Can you hear me?”

It was too hard to focus.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ryeowook asked with a concerned tone.

With firm hands Leeteuk pulled him to his feet. “He’s in shock.” 

Shock. Was that the right word?

“Changmin,” Yunho mumbled, wondering why the infirmary that Hero and Changmin were still in, was growing further and further away. “He’s been shot.”

“I know,” Leeteuk said gently, leading him by the elbow. “But our Minnie is so strong, Yunho. He’s not going to let one measly little bullet get him down. So you need to get cleaned up. You’ve got blood all over you. When Hero lets us in to see Minnie, we need to have you all cleaned up, so you don’t scare him. Understand?”

“Changmin’s been shot,” Yunho repeated. “He’s been shot.”

Leeteuk gave him nod. “You’re right. But he’s going to be okay. For all our sakes. Now come with me, Yunho. Let me get that blood off you.”

Changmin’s blood.

Changmin was shot.

Changmin was dying.

And Yunho with him.


	8. Eight: Junsu

Contrary to popular belief, one did not simply stumble into the field of bounty hunting. It was no guild sanctioned run business, but it was fraught with guidelines and thorough training. The occupation ate more recruits than competent bounty hunters it produced.

And for Junsu, who had known nothing else his entire life, bounty hunting was everything.

It was a tricky business, though. It was the kind of business that tripped many up, and more often than any of them in the business would admit, once in a while one of their own would fall prey to the cardinal rules they lived by.

Before every mission, before every acquisition, and before every turnover, Junsu repeated them to himself, so as not to forget them.

He’d say firmly, “I am my creed and my creed is me. I am without emotion. I am without compromise. I am without hesitation, and I am without heart.”

Feelings. They were the real problem. Left unchecked, they always got in the way. They could take the best bounty hunter and turn him into a traitor. If for one second anyone in their line of work let their feelings get involved, the entire cause was lost. It wasn’t for them to know what their chase had done to deserve the bounty. It didn’t matter the context or circumstances. And it was none of their business what happened after the chase was over and the bounty was delivered.

Junsu was living proof of the unrelenting rule.

In the most unromantic story his mother had ever told him, over a bottle of gin no less, Junsu’s father had been a bounty, and his mother had been doing the chasing. It had only taken one brutally passionate night for him to be conceived, but his mother had still delivered his father to the Alliance the next day, where he’d been put to death immediately. She had no regrets and Junsu tried not to have any either. It was merely the nature of their work.

But it would be a lie to say that Junsu didn’t prefer some bounties over others. Taking on Kim Jaejoong’s bounty was a pleasure, in all actuality.

Upon first glance it read as a simple kidnapping. The house servant, with another twenty years on his contract and a history of behavioral issues according to the issuer of the bounty, had up and run, taking Jaejoong with him as his hostage. Finding either of them would bring in a substantial amount of credits, but in this instance, Junsu was simply happy to play the part of the hero for a moment.

However something was unusual from the beginning.

Finding video footage of Jaejoong and the alleged kidnapper, Yoochun, had all been too easy. There’d been no attempt to hide their movements, no matter how frantic they appeared to be, and more than once Jaejoong looked to be in the lead.

Footage followed them to the space yard and through it, and Junsu was able to watch, albeit without any audio, as the two bartered their way onto a ship. The ship was easy to identify, along with the coordinates it logged shortly after that. 

What bothered Junsu the most was how little Jaejoong looked like a hostage. There was true panic on his face, and fear beneath it, but nothing that said the emotions were directed towards the man who kept steady at his side the entire time. And then there was the suitcase. How many kidnappers let their victims pack before abduction? Not to mention it had been a focus of Junsu’s how easily Jaejoong charged up the ship’s ramp, Yoochun following after him.

No matter what Jaejoong’s father claimed, this was obviously not a case of kidnapping. Jaejoong had gone willingly. 

“Take this one on your own,” his mother had said, busy working through a lead on her own case.

It would have been pointless to try and tell her what he thought of his case. 

It would have been even more pointless to care.

The creed decreed it didn’t matter if he was kidnapped or not. It stated it didn’t matter if Jaejoong himself had orchestrated the entire event. It only mattered that the bounty was out, Jaejoong’s father was paying an obscene amount of credits for his return, and there was a job to be done.

Context didn’t matter. Reason didn’t matter. Only the bounty mattered.

Getting a faster transport than the Tohoshinki had been a chore, one that left Junsu paying more for his trip than he thought was barely above robbery, but he was able to arrive at the Moon Hub just before Jaejoong. It was likely he was planning to hop another transport, though the motivation behind it all seemed a bit confusing. Most individuals with bounties out on them went further from the Core, and not towards it.

Laying in wait had proved fruitful. He’d had a front row seat for the Tohoshinki’s landing, and fulfilling the bounty contract was so close Junsu could taste it the moment Jaejoong and Yoochun came into sight.

It was almost as if they were playing directly into his hand, choosing the Moon Hub as a destination. No one would look twice about their disappearance, and none would try to stop Junsu from taking them.

He wasn’t even sure, until the moment right before he made his move, that he’d take the both of them. Yoochun was property. He needed to be returned to the holder of his contract. But Jaejoong occupied the larger bounty reward. Yoochun would be worth letting go, and tracking at a later date, if he compromised Junsu’s ability to recover Jaejoong.

Yoochun didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight, and Jaejoong certainly wouldn’t, but there was no telling for sure. 

Before he could consider either option, there was fighting in the streets. With keen eyes Junsu watched as chaos reared up over the overcrowded streets, destroying any chance Junsu had to take Jaejoong quietly.

But this was even better. 

And he’d decided. Yoochun could wait.

It would have been a perfect snatch, clean, quick and without incident, if only the Captain hadn’t been there. Jung Yunho.

“Avoid him,” his mother had said, the one and only time she’d looked over his shoulder while he’d been replaying surveillance from the space port. “He’s trouble. The kind we don’t want.”

Junsu had openly scoffed. “Him?” A quick background check had produced mediocre results. Jung Yunho. Twenty-six years old. He was currently the registered owner of a Mako class cargo ship, but previous work history included menial work, but also space mining. It was true he was taller than average, and maybe more bulky, but there was nothing intimidating about him in the least. Anyone could look menacing. Junsu was.

“Trust me,” his mother had said with a shrug. “That’s a man who’ll burn the world for the right price.”

He hadn’t paid much attention to his mother’s words at the time, but they’d suddenly become all too clear the moment he’d watched the Captain thread himself through the crowds as the riot grew in intensity. His determination and ferocity had set him apart.

And the way he’d grabbed Junsu’s target had been all too telling. 

Jaejoong was something to him. This wasn’t a simple case of one person taking care for another. No. This was a man personally invested somehow in another.

Observing the Captain for only a second more made it absolutely clear to Junsu that this Captain was the rarest breed of men. And Junsu’s mother had been absolutely right. Captain Yunho would burn the world for the right price. And he was doing it now, tearing through men like they were paper, protecting his right price, Jaejoong.

As Yunho pulled Jaejoong along, Junsu being forced to hang back, it was looking to be next to impossible to snatch Jaejoong without a serious fight.

The Captain’s brother being in the thick of things had been pure luck. 

Shim Changmin.

Junsu had read his file on the way to the Moon Hub. Companion Shim Changmin had been with the Companion’s Guild officially since his eight birthday, and he’d been actively taking clients since his seventeenth year. He held a flawless record, seemed to have a request wait list years long, and was, even by Junsu’s personal tastes, very attractive. The fact that he was Captain Jung’s brother was one of the more interesting mysteries Junsu had ever come across. 

A Companion and a cargo space rat. Brothers. Stranger things rarely had Junsu known.

Junsu detested violence, at least when it was avoidable.

But he’d had to do it. The opportunity was too perfect.

So with one well placed bullet, discharged from the pistol at his hip, Junsu reduced the Captain’s brother to a bleeding mess. And as predicted, more shots had fired, bringing the Alliance presence down more fully on the riot, sending even more people into a panic. 

It was a risky thing, too, taking aim at a Companion. Aggression of any kind against a Companion was usually bad news--the kind that resulted in the loss of limb or life. But Junsu had been particularly thorough when scoping out the area, and from his position partially hidden in a side alley, and with the sheer amount of people around him, it would certainly be impossible to trace the bullet in the Companion’s gut to his gun. And he’d be long gone with Jaejoong before anyone had the chance to try and sort out the ballistics of the situation.

Or he would have been, if his mark hadn’t been the second kind of rare breed of man, the kind who scarified for others without concern for themselves.

If Junsu had been a more patient man he might have waited for a better, later opportunity. He might have let Yunho and Jaejoong cart Changmin back to their ship and fly off into the blackness. But Junsu had always been impatient. It was his greatest flaw, and the kind that had gotten him in more than an obscene amount of trouble as a child. 

So he’d said, “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you carry him back to your ship as fast as possible and you take me with you.”

He wasn’t the only bounty hunter with a crack at Jaejoong’s bounty. And he probably wasn’t even the only one on the space station. But if he played his cards right, he could be the only one on the actual ship with Jaejoong.

Maybe the Companion would pull through, and maybe he wouldn’t, but no doubt Jaejoong would exhaust himself trying to save his life. He’d be exhausted by the time Junsu found the perfect moment to snatch him and commandeer one of the ship’s emergency shuttles.

So with his own kind of luck, the sort he rarely saw in his line of work, he ended up clutching a bulkhead as the Tohoshinki shot off into the void, Jaejoong shut up in the infirmary with Changmin who was steadily bleeding out. And the Captain, the man who’d burn the world for the right price, didn’t seem as if he could recall what his own name was.

It was understandable, really. Had Junsu any siblings he supposed he would have felt a sense of attachment as well.

Gruffly, from his elbow, a tall dark haired man asked him in an unexpectedly soft voice, “Tell me what happened. Tell me why you wanted on this ship.” His eyes were suspicious and his hand too close to his gunbelt.

By Junsu’s estimation there were only two real threats on the ship at the moment, excluding the Captain for obvious reasons. The first had gone off with the rambling, lost Captain, and the second was at Junsu’s side.

“I was just looking for passage to Guzi,” Junsu lied easily, doing his best to look a little ship sick. “That’s all. I got caught in that … whatever the hell that was. Riot? Deathtrap? I got caught right in the middle, and I thought I was going to die.”

As the ship shuttered, something that felt worrisome to Junsu, a young voice crackled across the intercom, “What the hell is going on down there? Captain? Mi?”

The man at Junsu’s side didn’t move an inch, save to question, “Why are you on this ship at the moment?”

Junsu nodded after the direction the Captain had gone. “I made a deal with your Captain. He got me off the station and I helped him carry that guy who got shot here.”

“Changmin,” the dark haired man said, jaw set firmly. “His name is Changmin and he’s the Captain’s brother. But that doesn’t’ answer my question.”

The ship shifted so fast to one side that Junsu staggered, and the man next to him moved just enough that he could see the closed doors of the infirmary. Causalities were a part of the work. Junsu couldn’t afford to care about everyone he came across, but he didn’t actually want the Companion to die. Junsu hated having to kill.

Suddenly the doors to the infirmary slammed open and Jaejoong, sweaty and covered in blood, shouted, “Yoochun! I need your help.”

Yoochun. The other. It wasn’t lost on Junsu that he’d been standing on the other side of the cargo bay the entire time. Jaejoong was the real prize, but if he had to settle for Yoochun, it wouldn’t be a complete bust.

“Your answer?”

Yoochun dashed through the infirmary doors and Junsu turned back to his interrogator. “I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible because I’m on probation right now. And maybe you missed it, but the Alliance soldiers who were attempting to squash the riot weren’t exactly checking who they were body checking to the ground. They’d have done the same to me in a second for simply being there, and probably worse, too.”

Dark eyes nodded. “Why worse?”

After a moment of thought, Junsu offered, “Because the guy who shot that kid? Changmin? I’m pretty sure I killed him.” Junsu let his eyes flicker down to his pistol on his belt. If they checked his weapon they’d be able to see one round missing, and hopefully his story would hold up.

It didn’t even look like the man in front of him was breathing, and with his size it was a formidable sight. But eventually, no matter how slowly, lines of relief flooded his features. 

“You saw who shot Changmin?”

“I did,” Junsu said flawlessly. It wasn’t a lie.

“And you took care of it?”

Junsu nodded. Also not a lie, per say. 

“Guys?” the intercom sounded again. “Someone get on this fucking intercom and tell me what’s going on!”

The man clapped Junsu on the shoulder and said, “Okay. For the moment you’ve got passage on this ship. But you might want to start praying to whichever god you believe in, for when the Captain finds out you shot the man who hurt Changmin.”

Junsu frowned. “Won’t he be pleased? You told me the kid is his brother.”

“He might be appreciative down the line,” the man said, making for the intercom on the wall. “But right away? He’ll just be pissed you stole the opportunity from him.”

Junsu didn’t want to think about what would actually happen if the Captain ever found out he was the one who truthfully shot his brother.

“I’m Zhou Mi,” the man said finally, introducing himself over his shoulder as he hit he intercom button. “Kyuhyun, I’ll be up there in a second. Just keep us flying, okay?” Zhou Mi turned back to him. “Once we get everything sorted, we’ll be able to work out where to drop you. We’re headed into the Core right now … though I’m not sure why anymore.”

“Anywhere with a decent space sport is fine,” Junsu said in a nonchalant way. Then he settled in to see what kind of an opportunity would present itself.

The Captain, a least for the next six hours, was a no-show. Junsu wasn’t sure where he was, or what he could be possibly doing while his brother was in surgery, but neither could he seem too interested in learning about the Captain.

But at the end of those six hours, looking absolutely weary, with sweat matted hair, Jaejoong emerged from the infirmary pulling at the collar of his high buttoned shirt. The very one stained red. 

In the time since they’d left the Moon Hub Junsu had been able to get a pretty good look at the crew. Zhou Mi and Leeteuk were the muscle. There was a pilot, too, whom Junsu had yet to see, and a mechanic who’d shown for half a minute before retreating down into the bowels of the ship once more. And then there was Ryeowook, who waited anxiously near the infirmary doors, giving Junsu suspicious and distrustful looks. 

Of all of them, Junsu liked Ryeowok the least. Something about him screamed he’d be trouble for Junsu and his bounty.

But, save for the pilot and Captain, they were all there when Jaejoong emerged, Yoochun not far behind him.

“Well?” Zhou Mi demanded, not giving Jaejoong an inch of breathing room. “Tell us.”

Jaejoon gave them a weak smile. “Changmin is going to survive.”

A collective breath of release sounded around Junsu, and even he was a little thankful. He truly hadn’t wanted to shoot Changmin, especially for a distraction that hadn’t even paid off in the end. 

“Thank the gods,” Zhou Mi said, deflating in his shoulders. “We’d have lost the Captain too, if we lost Changmin.”

“He’s going to have a tough road to recovery,” Jaejoong said truthfully to them. “The bullet managed to miss almost all of his vital organs, but it broke apart in him, shredding a good deal of muscle and tissue. He’s going to be in a lot of pain and sore before he can even begin to get out of bed, and when he does, he’s going to have to retrain his abdominal muscles to be strong again.”

“Does he need a hospital?” Onew asked from the fringe of the room. 

“Surprisingly?” Jaejoong chuckled, “No. I honestly wouldn’t have expected a ship of his make and this age to have such a fully stocked infirmary, but we have everything Changmin needs in the immediate future right here. He should be moved as little as possible right now.” Jaejoong turned to Zhou Mi. “Was there a doctor here before me? On this ship?”

Darkly, and in a way that Junsu sensed a bit resentful, Zhou Mi said, “We didn’t even know you were a doctor.”

It didn’t surprise Junsu in the least bit to learn that Jaejoong had kept that part of him a secret from the crew. The Captain was an obvious smuggler, likely a Browncoat supporter, and he could have easily turned out to be just as untrustworthy as one might expect. Doctors, outside the Core, were highly prized and sought after. On the Rim, a doctor could be bought or sold for countless credits, and Jaejoong’s permission would not be required for either.

Smartly from behind him, Yoochun said, “You didn’t exactly ask.”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Jaejoong said, a promise in his voice. “I just wanted to let everyone know that Changmin’s in recovery now, and you can see him one at a time starting tomorrow. Has … have any of you seen the Captain? Where’s Yunho?”

Ryeowook made a strained sound and Zhou Mi said, “Leeteuk is taking care of him right now. I don’t think putting him anywhere near Changmin is the best idea. But he’s okay, and he’ll be even better knowing Changmin is going to be fine.”

Jaejoong gave a slow nod. 

Carefully, and with deliberate words that made Junsu pay even more attention, Onew asked, “Are we still headed to our destination? Is that an option anymore?”

They were hiding something.

It was in the way Zhou Mi’s eyes cut to Junsu for a half second before returning to Onew. And the way Ryeowook shuffled the slightest on his feet.

“Yes,” Zhou Mi said after a beat more. “We’re still going there, but I don’t know anything else. The Captain will decide … when he can. Probably when Changmin is awake to talk to him about it.

Ah, so the Companion was involved somehow.

It had always been a confusing portion of the puzzle, having a Companion on a ship like the Tohoshinki. Even if Yunho and Changmin were brothers, thought not by blood, a Companion of Changmin’s caliber should never have been attached to a cargo freighter. It was illogical and incomprehensible. 

“Excuse me?”

While the others were starting to disperse, it was Jaejoong, the man with nearly a million credits on his bounty, drawing Junsu’s attention.

“Yes?” Junsu tried to keep his heart rate low. He always felt a rush when his bounty was so close, and his fingers pled with him to reach out and grab Jaejoong. A million credit bounty like Jaejoong’s successfully completed could earn Junsu the kind of recognition and respect his family’s business was in desperate need of, in order to secure more lucrative contracts.

Jaejoong offered him a small, innocent grin. “You helped Yunho carry Changmin to the ship, right?”

“I did.” Junsu nodded.

The smile on Jaejoong’s face grew. “Thank you so much. We only had seconds to spare with trying to stop the bleeding, and you made it possible for me to save Changmin. Thank you. I’m Jaejoong.”

“Xia,” Junsu returned, using the name he often revealed during his jobs. 

“Zhou Mi just told me you’re the man who stopped whoever hurt Changmin.”

Junsu replied, “I think I did.”

“Thank you,” Jaejoong said once more.

“Jae,” Yoochun said, coming up behind him and touching his elbow. “You’re tired. You should go rest.”

“I want to monitor Changmin for a little while longer,” Jaejoong protested. “At least for another hour, Yoochun. I have to make sure he’s okay. I can’t let anything happen to Yunho’s little brother. I just can’t.”

If Junsu’s creed had allowed even he slightest bit of emotion, he might have felt at least a little bad about ripping Jaejoong away from where he was and carting him back to a father who was all kinds of scary to even Junsu. 

There was nothing in the nature of kidnapping between Jaejoong and Yoochun. If anything they looked to be friends, and it was far more likely that Jaejoong had helped Yoochun escape from an oppressive household.

Taking both of them back would mean terrible things for Jaejoong, but certain death for Yoochun. 

For the briefest of moments he thought of the way his mother’s face had looked when she’d told him what had happened to his father, less than a day after Junsu had been conceived. And the way in which she had spoken, assuring him that even if she had known she was pregnant, she still would have turned him over to the Alliance for his death sentence. 

The two situations weren’t so different, Junsu supposed. A job was a job and emotions were not allowed. Context wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was acquiring the bounty and delivering it.

They ended up putting him in one of the guest rooms, one across from where Yoochun and Jaejoong were staying. It had a private terminal in it and after encrypting his network, he was able to contract his mother who was currently traveling herself.

“I’ve located my targets,” he reported.

She was harsh as he inquired, “Located, but not acquired?”

Junsu made a face. “There were compilations. Too many uncontrollable variables. I was forced to make necessary changes. I’m in a better position now, and at the first opportunity, I’ll be headed back with both targets.”

“Where are you now?”

Junsu gave a look around his quarters. “On a derelict freighter. The Make class, designation Tohoshinki.”

The corners of his mother’s mouth pulled upward. “Then you’re sitting atop your prey.”

“I am,” Junsu said. “And they have no clue who I am or what I plan to do. In fact I’m winning their trust as we speak. In another day or so they won’t look twice when I walk by, and they won’t think not to turn their backs on me when I create the perfect diversion to make my move.”

“Good,” she said, and it was as close to approval as Junsu knew he would ever get from her. In fact the only time she’d looked proud of him was when he’d brought in his first bounty by himself. Then she’d reprimanded him for taking twice the amount of time he should have, and breaking three ribs in the process. “There’s been a new development on the bounty, however.”

“Tell me.” Her words crawled under his skin. He hated when the bounty changed. he hated when he was forced to deviate from the agreed upon standard.

“The contract is not longer exclusive,” his mother said, and she didn’t look any more pleased than he was. “In less than twelve hours you’ll have every bounty hunter in the Core, and a good deal of them from the Rim, on your ass. You need to close this bounty as quickly as possible.”

Junsu felt his forehead crease as he frowned. “There’s more.”

His mother nodded. “The bounty conditions for one, Kim Jaejoong remains the same. Three quarters of a million credits to be delivered upon return to his father, so long as he’s alive. But the bounty on Park Yoochun has been transferred to the Alliance.”

Junsu couldn’t help leaning forward in his seat, eyes going wide. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means the Alliance owns the contract now, and we deliver the Park boy to them. They want him alive, and they’re willing to offer twice the credits for him.”

“Shit,” Junsu eased out. Alliance involvement was never good. And anyone who drew the Alliance’s eye to them, with a bounty of a million and a half credits … “Do we know why the Alliance wants Yoochun Park?”

“No,” his mother said gruffly, “and we don’t care. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Junsu reached for the switch to end the transmission. “I’ll contact you again when I have the bounty in my custody.”

“See that you do.”

Twenty-five years. For twenty-five years Junsu had lived the creed and defined his life by the work his mother taught him. And never until now had he come across a bounty transferred to the Alliance. Never before had he been tempted to leave the bounty that was now worth more, and take the smaller. 

The Alliance was nothing but trouble, and it was the kind that Junsu knew to steer clear of. Other bounty hunters, the more foolish ones, could have the Alliance bounty. Now that Junsu thought about it, Jaejoong’s bounty was enough. Unless the perfect opportunity presented itself, Junsu planed to take Jaejoong and leave Yoochun. Let the Tohoshinki deal with having an Alliance fugitive aboard.

A meal was called several hours later, and Junsu did his part to do his best to blend in, and become as unthreatening as possible. He concocted a back story for himself, one filled with illegal salvage, time served and dues paid, and a credibility to his usefulness on a ship like the Tohoshinki. 

He contributed just enough to the conversation to seem likable, but kept out of it enough as well to listen to what the others were saying. Their conversation was subdued, as Junsu might have expected, but there were nuances to pick up on, from the chain of command, to who was sleeping with who.

Easy targets were distinguished as well. If need be, Junsu would use any of them to serve his plans, but Ryeowook and Kyuhyun who were the youngest, and possibly the least capable of defending themselves, were of consideration.

Junsu made a point to help with the dishes, ignoring the continued suspicious looks Ryeowook was giving him, and then offered to Leeteuk, “I know you didn’t plan on taking me on as an extra mouth to feed, and while I don’t have a lot in the way of credits, you’re welcome to what I do have. But I want to pull my weight. If there’s anything you need doing, I’ll be the man to get it done.” And with any luck, he’d be able to wander the ship, learn the layout, and check out the emergency shuttle that he planned to use to make his escape.

Leeteuk, with his bloodshot eyes waved him off. “We’re discuss all of that later.” He tugged a hand through his hair and added. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about everything, but for now, please remain in your cabin. If you need to leave for whatever reason, call for myself or Zhou Mi.”

It seemed that they weren’t going to take any chances with him at the beginning, but Junsu was prepared to wait them out. Patience was not a virtue of his, but knowing that other bounty hunters were on the trail made him less inclined to take a risk and make a mistake. He wouldn’t get a second shot at Jaejoong. 

They passed by the infirmary on the way to his designated room, and from the new angle he could see through the observation room on the side. The blinds had been pulled earlier, buy they were open now.

Changmin was laid out on the bed, sleeping with an easy expression on his face, and Jaejoong was standing next to him, monitoring his numbers, looking as if he were minutes away from passing out on his feet.

The bigger surprise was the appearance of the Captain. Seated in the chair next to his brother’s bed, he was wearing completely different clothing, had scrubbed all the blood from his face and hands, and was at the very least, looking a bit more alert.

“Your Captain looks to be doing a little better,” Junsu observed, forcing himself not to check for a reaction on Leeteuk’s face.

“He needed time to get himself together,” Leeteuk said simply. “He’ll talk to you tomorrow as well. No one stays on this ship for any amount of time without his permission.”

Junsu forced a chuckle. “Zhou Mi thinks he might toss me out the airlock ,or something equally as exciting for taking down the man who shot his brother.”

Leeteuk made a low sound in his throat, but offered nothing else.

That night Junsu stared up at the ceiling in his room, feeling the ship hum under him, counting the steps of whoever was walking past his door, up and down the hallway for hours, tirelessly.

Getting Jaejoong out from under the noses of Leeteuk and Zhou Mi would be hard, and no doubt Yoochun would be reluctant to part from his friend for any real amount of time as well. But even on the way to recovery, Junsu couldn’t have asked for a better distraction than Changmin. 

It wouldn’t be long before the Captain tried to part him from the ship. He’d taken Junsu on out of necessity, but he wouldn’t be allowed to remain for even a day or two more. There was obviously something going on that he couldn’t make out, a plan or job or some sort that they didn’t want him to know about.

But none of that mattered. 

There would come a moment, no matter how brief, when Jaejoong was alone, the others turned their backs, and no one suspected a thing.

It was a moment Junsu would capitalize on, and be gone before the damage done could be realized. The bounty was as good as his.

Even if a few more casualties littered the way.


	9. Nine: Leeteuek

“It’s funny, you know,” Leeteuk said with a chuckle, “I still remember the exact moment I met him. I mean I remember with absolute clarity the moments before, thinking you were crazy for being so obsessed with this kid that wasn’t even your blood, then meeting him and understanding perfectly.”

In the quiet of the infirmary Leeteuk risked moving his eyes from Changmin’s still form to Yunho who was all but crowded over him, holding his hand delicately. Yunho was certainly looking better now that he’d gotten word Changmin would survive, but he wasn’t looking anywhere near what Leeteuk was used to.

In fact Leeteuk had never seen Yunho like this. 

“I don’t …” Yunho said, voice straining, “want to talk about this.”

Across the room, leaning back on a wall, Leeteuk shrugged. “Tough. I want to. Because if I just leave you sitting here by yourself you’ll spend the entire time beating yourself up. So I’m going to tell you a story I’ve never told you before and it’s going to make you smile, even if it’s only for a second, and no, you don’t have a choice.”

Yunho didn’t turn from Changmin for even a second. Instead he continued to stroke the soft skin on the back of Changmin’s hand while he slept on peacefully. “I could kick you out. Space you.”

“Please,” Leeteuk snorted. “You wouldn’t risk causing a scene here. And frankly I’m the only one holding this ship together right now.”

There was a scowl on Yunho’s face, but the fact that he didn’t say anything in rebuttal told Leeteuk he’d won.

“Okay, wait, we have to go back to before the first time I saw Changmin. We have to go back to the first time you told me about him. The Packard job.”

Impossibly, Yunho’s scowl dropped away. “The Packard job. Haven’t thought of that in forever. Gods, what were we thinking? Space mining at sixteen.”

Leeteuk gave an agreeing nod. No sixteen year old would be allowed to take on such a dangerous job now, at least not unless one was so far into Rim space that Alliance rules were more of a joke than anything enforceable. But back when he and Yunho had been sixteen, roped into mining for minerals in space for different reasons, heads had been willing to look the other way.

Leeteuk hadn’t known why Yunho was there at the beginning, but Leeteuk had been there because there was no other option. While he himself had been lucky his whole life to be blissfully healthy, his parents were another story. Before he’d even become a man, in official terms, they’d both developed aliments that required serious treatment. And with no credits to provide that treatment, Leeteuk had been forced to take the first job that paid the most as quickly as possible.

And at sixteen he’d been tall. Maybe he hadn’t been broad shouldered, and he’d still had a bit of a baby face, but if he turned his back to someone, he could pass for older than he was.

For eight weeks he’d kept his head down, laser drill in his hands, and worked. He sent all of his money home to his parents, prayed to the old gods for their recovery, and did his damnest not to get killed. 

The money just wasn’t coming in fast enough, unfortunately. 

“The way I remember it,” Yunho said, leaning a little closer to Changmin who slept on, “you almost got the both of us blown up.”

“That wasn’t my fault, Yunho.” Leeteuk crossed his arms.

Space mining in general was extremely dangerous, an occupation in constant need of warm bodies to replace the ones lost during production. But of all the dangers within the job, setting the charges and detonating them was the most. It also paid the most.

Leeteuk met Yunho when the foreman called for a replacement for the last man who’d blown himself and his partner up. It was usually a fight to get any of the regular workers to volunteer, even with the pay increase, but Yunho’s hand had been shooting into the air before the foreman had finished speaking.

At sixteen Yunho hadn’t exactly looked like a powerhouse either, tall but still building muscle. His face, however, had no innocence or childhood left. He looked serious, more adult than some of the grown men around them, and focused. Leeteuk could tell, without a single word between them, he and Yunho were kindred spirits. Yunho needed the money for something serious, too. Not just for drink. 

Leeteuk had volunteered too. 

“I’ve got a brother,” was the first thing Yunho said to him on the first morning they were planning to set charges. “You need to understand that he’s the most important person in the ‘verse to me, and I’m doing this to get money to join him on Helios. I don’t have any plans to die doing this before I can get to him, and if you ruin that for me--”

“--you’ll kill me?” Leeteuk finished for him with a laugh. “Good luck with that, if we’re in a million pieces.”

They almost had been. Yunho had set the charges perfectly, according to Leeteuk’s precise calculations, but what neither of them had know at the time was how thick the particular structure in front of them was. The first detonation had only weakened it, not brought it down completely, and they’d used too much for the second.

Sitting in the makeshift hospital afterwards, being treated for exposure when their suits had ruptured and depressurized suddenly from debris, Leeteuk had half expected Yunho to try and make good on his threat. It had been Leeteuk, not Yunho, who’d pushed to use the second charges without taking new readings. 

But Yunho had merely stared at him from across the tent, breathing extra oxygen in through a mask. 

“What?” Leeteuk had finally demanded when he couldn’t take any more.

Yunho had pulled the mask from his mouth, seemed to give his words some thought, then said, “Fuck this job.”

There hadn’t been anything to do but laugh.

And for the next few months they worked in tandem like they’d been doing it for years. There wasn’t another incident, and Yunho made it a point to tell Leeteuk everything about this kid named Changmin who was his brother and off training to become a Companion.

After a year, which was highlighted by Leeteuk’s parents dying within months of each other, and Yunho finally being able to smuggle letters to and from his brother, Yunho quit.

Leeteuk quit too, nothing left to work for.

And it was then, following after Yunho to Helios with no where better to go, he began to understand the draw that Yunho had. There was something about Yunho, something precious that made people want to follow him, put their trust in him, and believe in him. Yunho was a natural leader, and Leeteuk hadn’t thought twice about following him.

“Changmin was so little back then,” Leeteuk laughed, thinking of a thirteen year old Changmin, dressed in clothing that looked too big for him, hair sticking up everywhere, eyes huge on his face. “Just a kid.”

“He was,” Yunho agreed quietly.

“Before I saw him,” Yunho admitted, crossing to stand near Changmin’s bed, “I accepted that you cared for him--loved him even. I accepted that you considered him your brother and that if I wanted to be your best friend, which I did, I’d had to be kind to him and try my best to like him. But I didn’t think much of him. Then you dragged me up to see him, and I saw the way you two were together and I got it.”

Memories faded over time. It was a fact that Leeteuk had taken for granted as he’d grown older. His childhood, his parent’s faces--so much faded. But the first meeting he’d witnessed between Changmin and Yunho? That hadn’t faded. Almost a decade later and he remembered ever moment.

“I’d never seen you that happy,” Leeteuk told him. “I thought you were going to squeeze the poor kid to death.”

It was also the first time he’d seen Yunho cry. He’d wept openly as he caught Changmin up in a tight embrace, dragging his brother off his feet.

“I hadn’t seen him since the Guild came and took him.”

Leeteuk paused in thought. “Now that I think about it, we were still on the House’s property when we went out to see him. If we’d been caught we could have been thrown in jail. Yunho, I never thought about this. You almost got us thrown in jail.”

“Leeteuk,” Yunho said, and Leeteuk swore he saw the start of a smile on his face, “I do believe the first time we got thrown in jail it was your fault.”

“Ah, good memories.” Leeteuk shook his head with a grin.

“I think we need to talk about our definitions of good memories.”

That night, under the cover of darkness, on the Companion’s Helios based House, Yunho had hugged Changmin to his side and introduced, “Leeteuk, this is my brother. This is Changmin.”

Leeteuk had sized Changmin up a bit more, from his pleasant face, to his quiet demeanor, and how much of a contrast it all was from Yunho. “So this is the fabled brother Yunho never shut up about while we were doing our best not to get blown up.”

That had been a miscalculation on his part. Yunho had looked furious, but it was Changmin who’d done the impossible, suddenly transforming into a dangerous, horrifying monster as he spun on Yunho, slapping him harshly on the shoulder and demanding, “What have you been doing, Yunho? What’s he talking about? Have you been doing dangerous things?”

Changmin had been a force to be reckoned with back then, even at thirteen. 

“He’s going to be okay, you know.”

Yunho bowed forward until his forehead was resting on the bed. “He was shot.”

“I know,” Leeteuk said. He was tired of the same exchange between them. In the moments after Changmin had been delivered to the infirmary in a desperate attempt to save his life, it was all Yunho could say. Leeteuk had taken him to his bunk, washed the blood from his skin, and over and over they’d said the same words to each other. He didn’t want to start the cycle over again.

“And it’s all my fault.”

Leeteuk reached a hand out and pressed it against Changmin’s forehead. The skin was blissfully cool and he breathed a sigh of relief. Fever, which indicated infection, was the biggest threat to Changmin right now.

“Don’t be stupid, Yunho. Don’t say stupid things. Or I’ll wake Changmin up right now and tell him what you’re saying.”

Yunho’s free hand balled up the sheets on the bed. “This is my fault. It is. I … I should have known Changmin would go after Hero. I should have known he’d try to stop him from leaving, knowing my feelings on the matter. Changmin’s always been like this--sneaky in his selflessness.”

“Jaejoong.”

Yunho’s head finally picked up from the bed. “What?”

“This name is really Jaejoong.” Leeteuk rounded the bed and grasped Yunho’s arm tightly. He pulled him up out of his chair and to the far side of the room even before he knew Yunho could get his legs properly under him. “He’s been using the name Hero, but I ran a check on his papers. And I had to do some digging to get past the obvious forgeries, but I found out who he really is. Jaejoong. And …” This wasn’t a problem he wanted to lay on Yunho right now, but Leeteuk felt he had no other choice. Yunho was the Captain. He had to know.

“Problem?” Yunho asked. “It can’t just be that he used a fake name.”

“It’s not,” Leeteuk assured, keeping a firm hand on Yunho’s shoulder and his voice low. “Kim Jaejoong has a bounty out on him for his return, Yunho.”

“Seriously?” Yunho hissed.

Leeteuk nodded. “And it’s … a huge bounty. Three quarters of a million credits, Yunho.”

“For what?”

Leeteuk knew what he was thinking. He was thinking there was no way he’d misread Hero--Jaejoong so severely. They’d believed him to be a kind, non-threatening friend they’d made. 

“It was put out by his father,” Leeteuk said, mouth pulled tight. “And Yunho … I looked him up, too. He controls almost all of the trade that goes in and out of Helios bound for the Rim. He’s very powerful, and--”

The infirmary door opened and Jaejoong stepped through. Leeteuk wondered how much he’d heard. He had his answer a second alter when Jaejoong said, “I wasn’t kidnapped like the bounty says. I know that’s what he’s claiming. I know that’s what he wants people to think, but I wasn’t kidnapped. Yoochun didn’t kidnap me.”

Leeteuk mumbled to Yunho, “I was going to run the other one’s ident number next.”

Yunho pushed past Leeteuk to demand, “Changmin’s still fine, right?”

Leeteuk wanted to strangle Yunho over his priorities.

Slowly Jaejoong nodded. “I promise you, the surgery went well. Changmin’s well on his way to recovery.”

“When will he wake up?” Yunho pressed.

Jaejoong moved to Changmin’s side, checking things over. “When the sedative wears off, I imagine. I didn’t want to risk him waking early and aggravating any of his wounds with his confusion and panic. Give him another day or so.”

“Can we focus?” Leeteuk demanded of the room. 

There was a wince on Jaejoong’s face. “You should know the whole story. You should know what led up to this point.”

“I think we deserve that much,” Leeteuk ground out. “For all the trouble you’ve brought on us, or at the very least will.” There were sure to be bounty hunters already out on the prowl. They’d be scenting out Jaejoong as they spoke, and dealing with a bounty hunter would be nothing like dealing with a drunk in a bar.

With more clarity in his words than Leeteuk had expected, Yunho posed, “So you obviously weren’t kidnapped. So you ran away instead?”

Jaejoong was not like them. He wasn’t able to carefully guard his emotions and what was shown to others. It was so plain and clear, the magnitude of distress on his face, as he said, “I ran away. And Yoochun helped me. I think he knew the other alternative was me killing myself.”

Leeteuk startled but it was Yunho who cut around him to take Jaejoong by the arms. “You were going to kill yourself?”

“I wasn’t sure then, but I am now. I would have done it eventually, if not for the night Yoochun and I ran away. My father … he …”

How was it Leeteuk suddenly felt like an interloper?

“He hurt you,” Yunho said knowingly.

Jaejoong agreed, “He hurt me. He … controlled me. He told me what to eat, where to go, how to dress, and who to have as friends. And when I didn’t do what he said …”

Leeteuk had known men like Jaejoong’s father in his life. He’d known too many of them. Brutes, the lot of them. They were animals who thought their superior strength, or power gave them the right to hurt others. Leeteuk despised them, or anyone who preyed on the weak. 

“I think my father only allowed me to attend medical school because of a single mistake he made. Or else he would have tried to control my profession, as well.”

“What kind of mistake?” Yunho asked, eyes narrowing.

“With my genetic makeup,” Jaejoong said so frivolously, reminding Leeteuk how regular such a thing was with Alliance babies. “He wanted me to be his perfect heir, so he designed everything about me, from the way I look to my personality. He wanted a son who was intelligent, beautiful, ambitious, focused and dedicated. He also wanted an apathetic baby. What he got instead was one who was empathetic.”

Yunho’s face twisted. “He tried to make you not care about things?”

“I imagine he wanted me to be very cold,” Jaejoong corrected. “He wanted me to be able to kill, like he does, without feeling anything. But accidents do still happen with genetic manipulation. And instead of a son who was ruthless, he ended up with one who cared deeply for others. I could more than just sympathize with others from a young age, I could empathize. And I certainly couldn’t hurt them for no reason, not like he could. I was drawn to the medical field, and pediatrics in general, because of how he made me, even if it was a mistake. So really he had no choice but to allow it, and try to increase my worth to him in that way.”

Before they could derail the conversation any further, Leeteuk prompted, “Tell us about the night you booked passage with us.”

Jaejoong cleared his throat. “That night my father called me home from the hospital early. I’d just finished a heart transplant on a toddler, completed my rounds, and then I returned to the house. He had company, but I didn’t know who it was. Yoochun didn’t either. I overhead them talking, my father and this man. My father was bartering me away like cattle. He was giving me to this man, whoever he was, in exchange for trade rights. And this man, he terrified me.”

“You thought he’d hurt you too,” Leeteuk surmised. 

“I know he would have,” Jaejoong said plainly. “And my father told him to beat me as necessary.”

Yunho gave an angry sound. “So you made a run for it?”

“I did, because I knew that if I stayed, my life would be over. And no matter how restrictive my life had been before, I’d still had something. Being relegated to the position of bed warmer, wasn’t a future I was willing to endure, especially with a man who believed he could beat the defiance out of me. ” Jaejoong’s gaze slid away from Yunho to Leeteuk. “I never wanted to put this crew in danger. Yoochun and I did our best to stay away from you, and not involve you in our trouble. We were going to get off at the Moon Hub and protect you from our trouble.”

Leeteuk took an actual step back as Yunho clasped Jaejoong tightly, shaking him slightly as he demanded, “You should have told us. You should have told me.”

Jaejoong arched an eyebrow. “So you could feel sorry for me? So you could endanger your crew and your family for me? I couldn’t do that.”

“No,” Leeteuk cut in, “you should have told us so we could have dropped you at a better place than the Moon Hub.”

“Yunho,” Jaejoong said softly, bringing his fingers up to Yunho’s jaw. “You need a shave,” he chuckled. “You’re really starting to look like the space pirate I thought you were.”

It was a full smile that blossomed on Yunho’s face at the words, and Leeteuk’s feelings twisted up in him awkwardly. He’d wanted to be the one to make his oldest friend smile. Leeteuk had wanted to be the person Yunho relied on to make him happy again, even in a horrible situation. Not some new sob story that the Captain was smitten with.

…but maybe he just wanted to see Yunho smile more than he cared about who made it happen.

“How could your father force you to marry this man?” Leeteuk asked, eyes narrowing. “You’re not a minor, correct?”

“I’m not,” Jaejoong agreed. “I’m twenty-six. But Leeteuk, you need to understand, I’m my father’s property more than Yoochun is. He owns me, and it has nothing to do with how old I am. He considers me his property and he won’t ever relinquish that hold. I’ll spend the rest of my life running from him, but I will run. I won’t go back. I won’t endure any longer. I want to be free.” 

Yunho said suddenly, “You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t let you go back to him. I won’t let him take you back.”

Leeteuk rolled his eyes.

Jaejoong said, “You don’t know my father, Yunho. You don’t know his reach. You have no clue who you’re trying to protect me from, either. This bounty for my return is just the beginning. He’ll send an army after me if that fails--he can certainly afford to pay one. He’ll see this as a personal slight, and his reputation on the line. He’s made the deal with this man for me. He’s promised me to someone. He has to deliver, though that’s if he doesn’t kill me first for this. I’ve been seriously considering that he might just take the hit in his business negotiations and kill me out of anger.”

“How can you say that so casually?” Yunho demanded angrily.

Jaejoong’s fingers slid from Yunho’s face completely and his hands fell down at his sides. “Because if he takes me back, Yunho, it’ll be a mercy to die, rather than whatever else he’s capable of.”

Leeteuk’s eyes trailed back to Changmin who was blissfully unaware of what was going on around them. He was sleeping easily, chest rising and falling evenly, and he looked even younger than he was. 

He didn’t deserve what had happened to him. Changmin, of all people, who could be mischievous and a little bit of a terror, was still caring and gentle and so undeserving. He was, in a way Leeteuk had never imagined him becoming, a little brother of sorts to him, too. There wasn’t anything Leeteuk wouldn’t do to protect Changmin, and it was hard to imagine that in less than a year he’d be married and going off to start a family.

And with the Magistrate’s son, no less.

The Magistrate …

“Jaejoong,” Leeteuk said, moving closer to him. “Changmin’s getting married to the Magistrate’s son. This might be a long shot, but maybe he could get something done about your father. There’s no one more powerful on Helios, than him, even if your father thinks otherwise. And his heir might be his older son, but it’s widely known he favors his younger, Minho.”

Jaejoong gave them a sad look. “My father had the Magister over for dinner less than a week ago. They’re drinking friends. They have scotch and cigars together every Sunday night.”

Leeteuk felt his shoulders fall. “Oh.”

“But thank you,” Jaejoong said, such appreciation on his face. “Thank you for caring enough to think of a solution.”

Yunho swore, “We will find a way to resolve this.”

“No.” Jaejoong shook his head. “You’re going to let myself and Yoochun off at the first place we can get a transport. I will not stay on this ship and continue to endanger people I care about. My father will burn all of you to get to me, Yunho. You’ll be casualties of an unwinable war.

Oh, Leeteuk recognized the look on the Captain’s face. He knew that look from the time they’d taken a chance on a fifteen year old kid who boasted about being the best pilot in the ‘verse. And from the time they’d taken on a kid who had no real skills, other than being able to cook and run errands, simply because he had no where else to go and he probably reminded the Captain of his brother.

All lost children apparently reminded the Captain of his brother … and lost adults as well.

Yunho gestured to Changmin. “You’re a doctor, right? You dug the bullet out of Changmin’s body? You stabilized him and saved him?”

Jaejoong gave pause, clearly unsure where Yunho was going with his questioning. But eventually he did answer, “I performed surgery on Changmin.”

With determination etched on his face, Yunho said, “That makes you this ship’s doctor. That makes you crew.”

And that made the shit storm they were waddling into, by Leeteuk’s estimate, that much deeper.

Yunho continued, “And maybe you haven’t noticed, but I don’t like it when my crew is threatened or put in danger.”

Jaejoong grinned. “I think you told me on numerous occasions that you throw people out of the airlock, who endanger your crew.”

“Because my crew is my family,” Yunho finished.

Jaejoong let out a long gust of air. “I can’t let you get involved in this Yunho.”

Yunho glanced over to Changmin once more. “You saved his life. Now it’s too late for me not to get involved.”

Leeteuk left them quickly after that. Their serious talk had given quickly away to linger looks, soft touches, and a sense of intimacy that Leeteuk had no part of. He had no doubt they were about to involve themselves with something that would end in some kind of regret, but he also knew it was too late to back out. 

The Captain was smitten with Jaejoong, his feelings more than a little real, and even Leeteuk could understand the urge to protect him. There’d come a day when Jaejoong wouldn’t need their protection, but that day wasn’t now. And that made him irresistible to someone like Yunho. 

His next stop, despite feeling emotionally exhausted, was to swing past the guest quarters to make sure Zhou Mi was on guard duty.

The thing was, Leeteuk trusted his gut more than what he could see in front of him. He trusted the instincts that had been honed to perfection from years of having to make snap judgments his life often depended on. There was, for lack of a better word, a vibe that Leeteuk felt from people upon initially meeting them, and it was usually strong.

Jaejoong and Yoochun had radiated desperation, but not a real threat.

Their newest arrival, Xia, had an aura of danger. There was something unsettling about him, which was confounding because Leeteuk had already run a check on him. He hadn’t been lying when he’d stated he was out on parole, or that it had been for smuggling. Everything about him checked out. Everything. Maybe a bit too well, but that wasn’t something that Leeteuk thought many others would agree with him about.

Xia just seemed too polished. There was too much in place, and too much around him was contrived of convenience. 

It was possible that he had simply been in the right place at the right time, and it was possible that he was simply the kind of man to spring into action when needed.

But there was something there … something not right.

Leeteuk found it impossibly hard to believe that Xia had been right in the middle of things with Yunho and Changmin, deduced immediately that Yunho was a Captain, and been quick enough to extend his services for removal from the space station. He’d claimed that he’d seen Changmin’s would be killer, and that he’d disposed of the aggressor … but that was incredibly convenient.

“Mi?” Leeteuk called out when he was close enough to spot his friend a few dozen feet from the guest cabins, a data pad in hand. “Everything okay?”

Zhou Mi flashed him a thumbs up. “Fine. But I think Onew wants to see you. Ryeowook’s with him. They have something to talk to you about.”

“Really?” Leeteuk was genuinely surprised. Onew didn’t have much to say to anyone these days, least of all Leeteuk who had given the order, with Yunho incapacitated and incapable of doing so, to pull out of the situation that had gotten Joon killed. And leave his body behind. “Okay.”

“And one more thing,” Zhou Mi called over to him. He jogged the distance between them and said quietly, “Kyuhyun’s getting really antsy about where he should be taking us. There’s nothing up on the cortex about what happened at the Moon Hub, so we don’t have to lie low, but neither has the Captain been very forthcoming about where we’re going from here.”

Leeteuk scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know.”

“Leeteuk,” Zhou Mi eased out. “We’re still heading towards New Haven, but that has got to be a bust, right? Changmin was shot. He’s going to need a lot of time to recover completely, and we don’t exactly have a backup Companion waiting to go. This whole thing is a bust, isn’t it?”

It was certainly looking that way. And with no other way onto New Haven, and certainly no doubt in Leeteuk’s mind that none of them were emotionally ready to pull off such a complicated job, it had to be a wash. 

Which, if the case, put them in a bad spot. They didn’t have any other jobs lined up, and they were in constant need of credits for fuel cells, food, and every other expense. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be in the danger zone. They were used to cutting it close in terms of jobs, but they’d waged a lot on the New Haven job the second Changmin had agreed.

“Leeteuk?”

Leeteuk assured Zhou Mi, “The Captain is understandably preoccupied with Changmin right now. But Jaejoong thinks he’d going to wake up in less than a day, and I think the Captain will be better off the second that happens. I’ll speak to him then about this, okay? Until that time tell Kyuhyun to keep on flying with our current coordinates.”

“Alright,” Zhou Mi said in silent disagreement. “But tomorrow, please. We’re flying blind now without a plan, and it might be a better idea to stop and figure things out for a while.”

“I will,” Leeteuk swore. He nodded to the cabin behind Zhou Mi. “Keep an eye on that one, okay?”

Zhou Mi’s features pulled into a frown. “You think he’s a problem?”

Leeteuk shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know that something about him is … unsettling. Something about him rubs me wrong. I think he’s got all the potential to be dangerous to us. So just keep an eye on him. He goes no where by himself, and keep him away from the more … trusting members of our crew.”

There was the promise murder written across Zhou Mi’s features if any harm came to Kyuhyun. 

“We’ll get through this,” Leeteuk said, then headed towards the engine room.

Onew and Ryeowook were deeper in the biggest room on the ship than Leeteuk expected. They were tucked behind some of the bigger turbines and their heads were bent together looking at something.

“Mi said one of you wanted to see me?” Leeteuk called out. “Or both of you?”

Ryeowook gave an almost frantic nod while Onew waved him over.

“What’s this?” Leeteuk asked, looking down at the object in Onew’s hand. “Where’d you get that?”

In Onew’s palm was a partially whole bullet, its coppery shine showing in the bright lighting of the engine room. It was mashed up, like it had already been discharged, and Leeteuk had no idea where it had come from.

“This is the bullet that was in Changmin,” Ryeowook said. He plucked the bullet from Onew’s palm and held it up for Leeteuk to see properly. “I asked Hero, I mean Jaejoong for it.”

“And why is that?” Leeteuk asked. He squinted at the bullet. It was a smaller gauge than he carried himself, and neither could he place it to Yunho or Zhou Mi’s gun. The rest of them all carried, including Kyuhyun who almost never left the bridge except when they were on land somewhere, but if Leeteuk had to wager, it wouldn’t be even a partial match to that gun either. 

Ryeowook gave him a bland look. “I’ve got a feeling about something. About what happened, specifically.”

Leeteuk exhaled loudly. “You know none of that intuition sits well with the rest of us.”

Ryeowook plopped the bullet back into Onew’s palm and crossed his arms. “How is my intuition any different from your gut feelings?”

“Because I base my gut feelings on my experiences dealing with people,” Leeteuk argued back. “You base yours on some carzy mysticism that a hundred years ago would have gotten you burned alive as some kind of sacrifice to the old gods.”

Intercepting the both of them, Onew asked, “Have you really stopped to look at the bullet?”

Leeteuk shook his head. He didn’t exactly want to pay that much attention to something that had almost robbed his best friend of his little brother.

“Something about what happened to Changmin didn’t sit right with me,” Ryeowook pushed on, sounding absolutely sincere. “I don’t care if I don’t have anything to back up how it all makes me feel, but I stopped doubting my feelings a long time ago.”

Leeteuk finally took the bullet into his own fingers, holding it up towards the light. “And what did your feelings tell you?”

Ryeowook said slowly, “That what happened to Changmin wasn’t an accident. That there’s something suspicious here that I’m meant to discover for some reason I don’t understand just yet.”

Patiently, Leeteuk said, “A lot of people were shot, Ryeowook. Changmin was one of quite a few victims. He just had the luck of being the Captain’s brother, and there’s no way Yunho wouldn’t do anything and everything to save him.”

“Look,” Onew urged. “Just look at the bullet.”

He was looking.

“You don’t see it?” Onew asked.

“No,” Leeteuk had to admit. “How about you tell me what I’m supposedly missing. That’ll speed things up here.”

Onew snapped the bullet up and turned the smashed butt of it to Leetuk’s face. “See that engraving? The symbol?”

The bullet, when entering Changmin, had been badly damaged. It was still mostly in one piece, which was why Changmin was still breathing, but missing out on the design on the bullet was an easy mistake. It was only partially there, and it made Leeteuk wonder how either Onew or Ryeowook had spotted it in the first place. “What is this?”

Onew gave him a severe look. “It’s a calling card.”

Leeteuk felt his lungs swell with air. “You think this bullet was discharged from a gun belonging to someone of significance?”

Ryeowook nodded. “The Alliance number their bullets. Average Rim runners use the plain kind, and there’d be a more detailed or intricate design if this bullet came from a Core citizen of wealth. No, this bullet came from someone else completely. And there’s no way it accidentally made its way into Changmin’s gut. This single bullet’s raw material is worth enough to keep us in fuel cells for a week. It wouldn’t have been fired carelessly. I’m telling you, Leeteuk, someone put this into Changmin purposefully.”

“No one would attack a Companion this deep into Alliance space.”

Onew’s head cocked. “There are plenty who would, Leeteuk. Especially the kind who thought he or she could get away with it. And it’s not like this symbol is easily traceable.”

It chilled Leeteuk to think Changmin could have been hurt on purpose. “Do you two realize what kind of path you could be trying to take us down? The Captain barely survived thinking this happened to Changmin on accident. If he thought for a second that it was on purpose …”

“We don’t propose telling the Captain just yet,” Onew said decisively. “Not until we have any sort of idea where this thing might have come from, and how or why it made its way into Changmin.”

Leeteuk turned to Ryeowook. “You just got a feeling that you had to check out this bullet?”

“It just seemed suspicious,” Ryeowook defended, “that Changmin would be hurt in such a way that would allow us to pick up another passenger without having a chance to stop and think about it.”

“Don’t,” Leeteuk surged forward, “even suggest such a thing.” At least not out loud. Not with all of them barely holding it together.

It would be madness if the Captain thought for even a second that their passenger had something to do with Changmin getting hurt. And no one would be able to take back what the Captain would likely do to the man. Not to mention they’d be cleaning up the debris for days probably.

“I get a bad feeling from him,” Ryeowook said, mouth pulled tight. “There’s something bad about him. And don’t pretend like you’re not thinking the same thing, either. I can see it on your face.”

Leeteuk wanted to tell Reyowook he felt exactly the same way, but they were all treading on such thin ice.

“Xia’s background check came out clean,” Leeteuk told him, sparing one last look to the bullet. “And he’s getting off at the first possible chance. More than that, I’ve got Zhou Mi keeping a tight watch on him. So I don’t want the two of you to say even the slightest word about this to anyone else, least of all the Captain.”

Onew pocketed the bullet. “Then we’re just supposed to sit on all of this?”

Leeteuk jabbed a finger at them each. “Look into the design. Just in case … look into it--quietly. But no one else learns about this. Not a single person. And the both of you stay away from Xia.”

For at last a second, they seemed settled, and Leeteuk couldn’t have hoped for anything more. Because if they were even slightly right … if Changmin’s injury hadn’t been an accident …

Gods help them.

“Leeteuk?” Ryeowook asked pale as a ghost. “Something very bad is going to happen soon. And it has to do with our new passenger and that bullet. They’re connected. I know they are. So I’m telling you, something bad is coming our way.”

The tone of his voice caught Leeteuk off balance. “What?”

“I can feel it,” Ryeowook implored. “And we’re not going to see it when it hits.”


	10. Ten: Jaejoong

Yoochun gave Jaejoong a wary look and said, “You’re an absolute masochist, you know. And moments like these really prove that.”

Jaejoong ignored is friend, instead his attention focused on the cup of bitter coffee in front of him, a small, silver spoon mixing in a precious tiny amount of sugar and swirling the drink in a clockwise pattern.

Yoochun sighed and sat next to him in the ship’s dinning area. “It’s not your fault, you know. You should stop blaming yourself.”

Jaejoong had to huff in exasperation. Of course it was his fault. It could be no one else’s.

A hand reached across the table and caught Jaejoong’s. “You didn’t put that bullet in his gut.”

Reason was telling him the same thing, but Jaejoong couldn’t help feeling absolutely guilty. And the guilt was only building. Every time he went to check on Changmin, every time he saw Yunho, all he could think about was how much at fault he was and how little he deserved forgiveness. 

“Sometimes I think you’re too caring,” Yoochun said, laying his top half on the table. “You take too much blame.”

“And you don’t take enough,” Jaejoong shot back, hands gripping the coffee mug.

He had to get back to the infirmary. Jaejoong had been away for almost twenty minutes now, trying to give all of Changmin’s friends a shot at seeing the recently awoken man. He’d have to cut them off sooner, rather than later, so that Changmin could rest. But right now it seemed evident how badly they needed to make sure he was okay with their own eyes.

In the privacy of the room, Yoochun said, “I don’t think we deserve any blame. Like I said, we didn’t put that bullet in Changmin. We didn’t tell him to come after us, and the truth is, Jae, no matter how little you want to hear it, we can’t control the actions of others. We can’t take responsibility for their actions, either. We’re only responsible for what we do, and the choices we make. Those consequences are ours. I’m not saying you don’t have the right to feel bad about what happened to Changmin. But I am saying that trying to take the blame like you’re the one who did it, isn’t something I can let you do. Best friend requirement there.”

Jaejoong turned to him and gave him a weak smile. “Best friend requirement?”

“There’s a handbook,” Yoochun said solemnly. He paused, cocked his head and asked Jaejoong, “Didn’t you get a copy?”

It was so amazing the way Yoochun could lift his spirits so easily. The pain and regret was still there, but also the knowledge that he did have a best friend, and Yoochun was doing his best to cheer him up.

“You know that … you know my jerk of a father, Yoochun. He probably stole it.”

Yoochun returned Jaejoong’s smile. “What an asshole. But listen up, there are all kinds of additives and clauses about best friends trying to take responsibility for things that aren’t their fault, especially when they’re too empathetic like you. How about I lend you my copy?”

Knowing Yoochun, Jaejoong wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually managed to produce a copy of something of the sort. Yoochun was wonderful like that. 

Jaejong admitted, “I still feel guilty. I still feel like it’s my fault, even if I shouldn’t. Yoochun, Changmin came after me to try and convince me to stay on with the ship. If I had managed to stay away from the Captain, like you’d told me to, no one would have gotten the faintest idea that I had feelings for the Captain, or that he had feelings for me, least of all Changmin. Just stay away from Yunho. That was all I had to do, and Changmin wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“I guess,” Yoochun huffed out, “it’s like telling a bee not to pollinate.”

Jaejoong gave him a confused look. “Your analogies are decidedly lacking, Yoochun. That or you’ve just attempted a dirty joke, which you would probably know ahead of time is going to be wasted on me.”

“Hardy-har.” Yoochun leaned an elbow up on the table and cradled his jaw in his palm. “I just meant, you can’t keep two people apart who have feelings for each other any more than you can stop a bee from being drawn to flowers. It’s something instinctive.” Yoochun thought for a second, then added, “But I guess if you want to think about pollination as sex--”

Jaejoong snapped out, “Yah!”

Yoochun gave him a goofy smile. “Aren’t you supposed to know all about how sex works, Doctor Kim?”

Voice lowering, Jaejoong told Yoochun sternly, “Yes, thank you, I know very well how sex works. I just don’t think we should talk about it so callously.”

“Prude,” Yoochun teased, knocking him in the shoulder gently. “That’s something you have to wean yourself from. We’re going to end up in the Rim eventually, and they talk about sex like it’s the weather.”

Jaejoong supposed he was a sort of prude. And he wasn’t certain he wanted to be. So he was going to take Yoochun’s words into consideration, at the very least, and try to open himself up to new experiences and levels of comfort.

“But Yoochun,” Jaejoong said, leaning over so they were pressed at the shoulders in physical contact. “If I hadn’t run away from home, I wouldn’t have boarded the Tohoshinki. I never would have brought the crew out to the Moon Hub, and none of these things with Changmin would have happened.”

Right away, Yoochun replied, “If your father hadn’t been such a despicable human being, we wouldn’t have had to run away. Make sure the blame goes in the right spot, please.”

“Best friend requirement?”

It was true. Yoochun was absolutely Jaejoong’s best friend, and had been since they were children. He’d always been there for Jaejoong. He’d always been comforting and understanding and patient, above all else. He was the most important person in Jaejoong’s life. 

“Got it.”

Jaejoong tried to hide another smile behind his coffee cup, but the liquid was more than bitter. It was downright undrinkable, in Jaejoong’s opinion. And it left him feeling almost guilty that he still yearned for something from his old life. As much as his life had been hell on Helios, filled with endless abuse, there had also been the finest coffee in the ‘verse.

It seemed a little funny to think about, or maybe just pathetic, but that coffee had been the highlight of every day for Jaejoong. Rich and thick, dark and brewed to perfection, the strong substance had gotten him through med school almost single handedly. He’d been suffering through caffeine withdraws for several days now, and the irritable feelings attached weren’t helping the situation.

“So,” Yoochun eased out, “I need to know what we’re doing.”

“Here? Life in general?”

Yoochun didn’t look amused. “No. Here on the ship. Are we … staying?”

Jaejoong hadn’t dared to hope. 

“I didn’t think that was an option,” Jaejoong found himself saying. And he really hadn’t. Yoochun had never once posed to Jaejoong that it was something they could choose to do.

Honestly, Yoochun said, “I didn’t think it was before. I didn’t trust these people with either of our lives, no matter how honorable they seemed. But that’s changed. I see the way the Captain looks at you. And what he did for you, not just what he did for his brother. That changes everything.”

“Yoochun,” Jaejoong started.

“No, it’s okay,” Yoochun assured. “Like I said, bees and pollination. Look, Jaejoong, you guys like each other. Anyone who isn’t completely blind, deaf or dumb can tell. And the Captain is the kind of man who’s liable to protect the people he cares about. I don’t know if I like him, Jae, but I trust him to do his best to keep you safe. Maybe he’s a fool for tying, knowing the kind of burden we’re carrying around with us, but he’s apt to try, and I’ll let him.”

Jaejoong supposed, “So you think he’ll let us stay?”

“Let us?” Yoochun laughed out. “I think he’ll do everything in his power to keep us. Well, to keep you, but obviously we’re a two piece set. Got it?”

There had never been a doubt in Jaejoong’s mind of that fact. He pushed the coffee mug away and said, “We are a matching set, Yoochun. You don’t go anywhere without me and vice versa.”

Yoochun said, “Good to know. But I guess the real question here isn’t if we can stay, but if we want to. You didn’t answer when I asked a second ago. But you’re going to have to now. Jaejoong, do you want to stay on this ship? If we do, it won’t always be safe, and we’ll run the risk of getting these people hurt if your father ever catches up to us. You need to be prepared for that.”

It was his greatest fear, and Yoochun knew it. If his father hurt him, as he had so often in the past, it was something Jaejoong could live with. But getting someone else hurt because of his actions? That was utterly unacceptable.

So maybe it didn’t matter how badly he wanted to say with Yunho and the rest of the crew. If it was too big a danger to them, he couldn’t put his own needs selfishly first.

“Think about it,” Yoochun urged, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Jaejoong watched as Yoochun straightened up. 

Yoochun gave him a more toothy grin. “As much as I’d love to stay here in your self-deprecating company, I’m going to head back to our quarters for a quick powernap. Something tells me things are going to get more exciting around here very shortly. I want to be ready for that.”

Yoochun slipped away from the room and Jaejoong was left with only his thoughts for company. At least until he found Ryeowook tapping his shoulder, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?”

Jaejoong forced himself not to look in the slightest like he was heavily weighed down by his thoughts. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Ryeowook sat gingerly in the seat Yoochun had occupied. “You don’t look fine, if you don’t mind me saying. You look … burdened.”

“Worried,” Jaejoong corrected. “But I’m sorry, am I in your way?”

Everyone on the ship had a specific designated job. But Ryeowook, at least by Jaejoong’s observation, seemed to be a jack of all trades. He cooked, he kept inventory, he was often found in the engine room, and also the bridge, and seemed to occupy his time with whatever he really wanted to. But of course the kitchen and dinning area always reeked of his presence, and a quick look at the clock showed that the next mealtime was coming up quickly.

“You’re not,” Ryeowook said quickly. “And in fact I’d like some company, even if it’s for a second.”

“A second?”

Ryeowook set a data pad in front of him, and bright on the screen were the plans for that upcoming meal. “Of course. I’m sure you’re in a hurry to get back to Changmin. You’ve barely left his side over the past few days, even though you said he’s not in the danger zone anymore.”

“He’s not,” Jaejoong was quick to say. “I just … want to be there in case he needs anything. Or just in case.”

“Changmin’s got Kyuhyun and the Captain falling all over themselves to hover around him. Trust me, they’ve got it covered if he needs anything.”

“Still.” Jaejoong lifted his cup as he stood, preparing to discard the liquid in the sink, “I’d feel much better if someone with any kind of medical training was within arm’s length. At least for another day.”

Ryeowook, who’s age was impossible to pin down just by looking at him, but seemed young like Kyuhyun, asked, “And he’ll recover fully?”

“In a few months,” Jaejoong confirmed, “it’ll be as if he was never shot to begin with, sans the emotional trauma. And within a few more days, if he’s very, very careful, he can get up on his feet. Ryeowook, did this ship have a doctor onboard at one time? The infirmary is almost fully stocked, and it has quite a bit of equipment I wouldn’t have expected to see. You could sell most of it and make a great deal of credits from the sum of the infirmary’s parts. It was unexpected, when I first saw what was inside.”

Ryeowook recalled, “We’ve had several doctors over the years, but they never last long.”

Jaejoong’s eyes widened. “Last long?”

“Yeah,” Ryeowook nodded. “One got killed on accident on a job, one got fed up with dealing with the Captain’s disposition, one tried to sell us to the Alliance on false charges, I might add, and one just up and left without so much as a warning … we still don’t know about that one. This ship never had much luck with doctors. At least not until now.”

The compliment made Jaejoong’s face hurt. “This is a freighter, but I’ll just assume that more than once in a while, this crew finds itself employed on less than legal terms. Is that why the infirmary is stocked so well?”

Ryeowook scrolled through his meal plans on the data pad. “The Captain’s kind of a trouble magnet. Someone always wants to shoot him. We keep the infirmary stocked just in case. And while almost everyone on here has some basic first aid training. none of us could have saved Changmin’s life like you, Jaejoong. We’re not completely inept, just not trained doctors.”

Jaejoong gave him an impressed nod, then asked, “Ryeowook? Can I ask you something? It might be a little personal.”

“Go ahead,” Ryeowook said with a chuckle. “I live on a fairly small spaceship with at least five other people at once. Personal questions aren’t really any issue anymore.”

It was something that Jaejoong had been curious about, and he couldn’t fight the nagging need to know any longer.

“You’re … not the kind of person I’d expect to find living on a freighter. How did you end up here? The Captain is a good man, no matter what he pretends to be, but he also doesn’t seem to the type to take on extra baggage that doesn’t contribute somehow.”

Ryeowook gave him a kind look. “I grew up pretty far out in the Rim. My family was big, very big, but also very poor. I grew up knowing that as soon as I was considered a man in my family, I’d have to leave. There were too many mouths to feed, and the same thing that happened to my six older brothers and sisters, was bound to happen to me. I could leave or I could be forced out. I chose the more dignified of the two options.”

Jaejoong frowned. “How old do you have to be to be considered man out in the Rim? The age of majority near the Core is twenty.” There had been one point, just before Jaejoong’s twentieth birthday, when he’d truly believed that when he was no longer considered a minor by the government, that he’d be free of his father. It had been a foolish idea, one disproved within hours of turning twenty, but for a brief moment, there’d been hope.

“The Alliance doesn’t really have any control out in the Rim,” Ryeowook reminded. “In my family, you were a man at fourteen--maybe fifteen, if you were very lucky. So when I realized that my time with my family was coming to an end, I left. It was my plan to go find work, but as you can clearly see, I’m not suited for the more physical kind. That’s what there’s an abundance of in the Rim, by the way. Which was a problem for me.”

“So what did you do?” Jaejoong inquired.

“I got very lucky,” Ryeowook saidd with a shrug. “My cousins and siblings and I had been distilling alcohol for years and years, which lent me just enough knowledge to get hired as a barkeep in some backwater town far enough away from my family home that I’d never see anyone I knew again. The job was good, the patrons less so.”

“They were belligerent?”

“And aggressive,” Ryeowook agreed. “Sometimes they got handsy, too. I don’t think I need to tell you, of all people, what certain men are capable of. The Captain had an issue with the fact that I was essentially a child, working at a bar and being groped by grown men. He started a fight over it, and that cost me my job.”

“Ah,” Jaejoong exhaled. “So in return he put you up on the ship.”

Ryeowook burst out laughing. “Not even close. The Captain felt bad about it, sure, but he was in no position to take anyone on. At that point he and Leeteuk had just gotten the Tohoshinki up and running. She hadn’t even been space worthy for a year. They needed a pilot. They needed an engineer. They didn’t need a kid freeloading from them. It was nothing personal. So I got an apology from the Captain, all the credits he had in his pocket, and nothing else.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaejoong felt horrible now. “I misspoke.”

Ryeowook insisted, “Actually, the Captain not taking me on at the time was the best thing that could have happened to me. I got picked up at a kitchen boy at a bigger city. I got steady pay, I ate for free, and I got to grow up in my own time, in my own way. I ran into the Captain a couple of years later in a manner of way that could be considered a fluke. He had Kyuhyun by then as his pilot, and Onew as his engineer. He didn’t need me anymore then, than he did before. But I think he still felt guilty that he hadn’t been in a place to help me before, and I was feeling a little restless. He hired me on as the cook in a superfluous way, for a six month trail basis, and I fit in here. Sometimes people have a way of fitting in where they least expect. Don’t you agree?”

Jaejoong could only nod a bit numbly. From the moment he’d stepped foot on the ship, or rather, from the moment he’d met the Captain, something had felt right. Of course back then they’d been busy snapping at each other, misjudging the other and not getting along, but it had never felt wrong, and Jaejoong had never felt in danger. 

“Well,” Ryeowook exhaled, “I’ve procrastinated long enough. I have to get started on dinner, but you’re more than welcome to hang around and help me. Changmin isn’t going anywhere, you know.”

“I know,” Jaejoong said standing, “but all the same, I’d like to go check on him. Maybe run Kyuhyun or Yunho out of there. 

“Good luck,” Ryeowook laughed. “Good luck with that.”

“Maybe just Kyuhyun,” Jaejoong amended.

“Better.”

With the combined efforts of both Ryeowook and Yoochun, regardless if only one of them had actually been trying to cheer him up, Jaejoong headed to the infirmary with his head a bit clearer. 

“You’re a doctor?”

Jaejoong turned sharply at the voice behind him. It was particularly difficult for anyone on the ship to sneak up on anyone else. Shoes clattered against metal walkways, and everything was always creaking. It had taken a seemingly endless amount of time for Jaejoong to stop feeling so unnerved by the sounds. Now they were almost like a soothing lullaby. Jaejoong wasn’t sure what that said about him now. Maybe he was a legitimate spacer due to the feeling. 

“I … am,” Jaejoong finished a bit lamely, turning to see the man he’s only briefly met, and not under well circumstances. The first time Changmin had been bleeding out in front of him, crying from the pain, his eyes begging for Jaejoong to save him. Everything else in comparison was a little hazy. The second there’d only been the most briefest of introductions. The most Jaejoong knew about this man, which wasn’t even his name, was that he’d helped carry Changmin to the ship. “I don’t think we were properly introduced.”

“Jaejoong, isn’t it?” the man asked.

There was something unsettling about him. He was fair to look upon, and nothing was inherently imposing about him, but Jaejoong’s instincts were screaming at him to get away.

“It is,” Jaejoong replied. If given the choice, he would have used the name he and Yoochun had been providing before, but it wasn’t an option now. “And yours is?”

“Xia,” the man answered easily. 

The man was inching forward and all Jaejoong wanted to do was turn and run. It was baffling and unexpected, the feeling of being cornered.

“Tell me,” Xia said, an odd smile on his face, “how does a doctor like you end up on a freighter like this?”

Immediately Jaejoong felt defensive. “Plenty of people end up all kinds of places, for various, interesting reasons. This ship has a Companion on board, which seems the more outstanding note.”

Xia’s head tilted. “It’s terrible what happened to him.” 

One the surface, even Jaejoong had to admit, the words sounded sympathetic. But there had been the oddest inflection in his tone as he spoke, and Jaejoong wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“Terrible,” Jaejoong repeated, taking a step back as he realized Xia was nearly next to him. Why was it that his throat was closing up on him, making it terribly difficult to call for help if necessary. Why was he sweating and shaking and what was wrong with him? “But thank goodness you were there to help. It was … convenient.”

“I saw an opportunity,” Xia said evenly. “And I’m an advantageous man.”

Jaejoong breathed possibly the biggest sigh of relief as Zhou Mi came up behind them. Zhou Mi, Jaejoong was quickly learning, was not an overly aggressive man. He wasn’t loud, or brash or prone to any forms of intimidation that Leeteuk and Yunho exhibited naturally. But something about him told Jaejoong he was a dangerous enemy to have. 

And at the moment, he was a wonderful friend.

“I thought I told you to wait for me.”

Xia’s hands went into his pockets and he grinned easily at Zhou Mi. “Sorry. I thought you were right behind me.”

Zhou Mi regarded him for a moment, probably attempting to determine the validity of his statement, then he looked past Xia to ask, “Are you okay, Jaejoong?”

Jaejoong gave a firm nod and squared his shoulders. “I am. Thank you.”

Jaejoong took a step back as Xia and Zhou Mi passed, nearly holding his breath until the perceived threat was gone. 

There was something wrong about that man. There was something there that Jaejoong’s survival instincts were pleading with him to avoid at all costs.

As expected, Jaejoong found both Kyuhyun and Yunho in the infirmary, and a sleepy but awake Changmin between them.

“I hope you two aren’t bothering my patient,” Jaejoong announced with a smile as he slid through the partially parted infirmary doors. 

“No way,” Kyuhyun protested. 

Jaejoong did his best not to fall into a puddle of goo on the ground when Yunho grinned wide at him and said, “I know my brother well, Jaejoong. I know he’d let us know the second we’re bothering him.”

“I would,” Changmin confirmed weakly from the bed, his lips colorless, but pulled upward. “And it shouldn’t take long for it to happen. Yunho’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“You’re lucky you’re my little brother,” Yunho teased, and Jaejoong could see the way Yunho was holding Changmin’s hand, in a loose but clearly protective gesture.

“How are you feeling, Changmin?” Jaejoong asked, motioning for Kyuhyun to move back so he could carefully draw down the blankets around Changmin. “Be honest with me, please. I’m a very pleasant doctor I’ve been told, but I’ve no time for my patients lying to me.”

Changmin offered a pout. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Changmin,” Yunho warned. “You were shot .You’re not fine.”

“Shh,” Jaejoong shot at Yunho without severity. “Changmin? I need to check the wound. I changed your bandages this morning, but it’s been a while, and though I’m impressed with the ship’s infirmary, it also isn’t the sterile environment I’d like to have you in.”

With several sets of eyes anxiously looking on, Jaejoong was able to peel back the outer bandage without much trouble, and expose the wound to cool air for the first time in nearly eight hours. 

“I’m tired,” Changmin said finally. “A lot, but I feel like all I do is sleep.”

“That’s normal,” Jaejoong replied. “Your body is working overtime to heal you right now, and a healing sleep is not the same as a regular sleep. You’ll start to feel less and less sleepy as the days pass, and by the end of the week it should be gone completely, unless, of course, you go and exert yourself. Now, how’s your pain level? And no, it’s fine, is not an appropriate answer.”

Changmin gave Jaejoong an exhausted look. “It hurts I’m not going to lie about that. But it doesn’t hurt as bad as I expected.”

“That would be the pain meds,” Yunho cut in. “You’re lucky, Minnie. We actually had some still stocked from the last time.”

Kyuyhun took an obvious and exaggerated step back as Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “From what last time?”

“Ah …” Yunho’s eyes flashed over to Jaejoong’s, pleading for help.

“Yunho!”

It was adorable. For Jaejoong, who’d always longed to protect his sister, but never felt an overwhelming amount of affection for her, it was wonderful to see the two brothers interacting so lovingly with each other. It was easy to see how much they cared for each other, cherished each other, and watched out for each other. Not all siblings were such a way, and it spoke lengths about the type of man Yunho was that he could so openly shower Changmin was affection.

Yunho ground out, “Since I was shot, okay?”

Jaejoong startled and Changmin demanded, “You were shot!”

“Gotta go!” Kyuhyun called out, dashing for the door. 

“It was only a graze! Sort of!”

Carefully Jaejoong replaced the bandage on Changmin’s wound and relayed, “If you two could stop snapping at each other for a half second, I could tell you, Changmin, that your would is a little bit red, which means you’ve been moving around more than you should have. It’s nothing to worry about right now, but if you continue to aggravate it, it could be trouble down the line.”

“I wasn’t,” Changmin said insincerely, ignoring Yunho’s accusing glare.

Jaejoong patted Changmin’s shoulder soothingly. “I know how hard it is to lay in bed all day, every day, feeling useless and bored. Trust me, I know. But it’s the only way you’re going to heal and recover fully. If you stick to my advice you could be up sooner than you think. Ignore me and you’ll spend so much time in this infirmary you’ll go mad staring at the same four walls over and over.”

Changmin gave Jaejoong a wary look. “You’re kind of a scary doctor, actually.”

“Don’t talk about your doctor like that,” Yunho lectured.

There was a stool in the corner of the infirmary and Jaejoong slid onto it, reaching for an inventory sheet he’d been compiling of the infirmary’s stock. “Yunho, you can stay and keep Changmin company if you want, but don’t upset him in any way. Don’t aggravate him for that matter, either. I will kick you out.”

Yunho looked a little slack jawed.

“You heard him, Yunho,” Changmin said, a devilish look on his face. “Don’t upset me. I’m delicate right now.”

Jaejoong hid a smile behind hid paperwork. 

Dinner was only an hour and a half later, but by the call came for it, Changmin was asleep again. His vitals were strong, his breathing even, and with every bit that Changmin got better, Jaejoong felt himself recover as well. 

For the rest of the night Jaejoong concerned himself with cataloging everything the infirmary had to offer, turning away visitors who might accidentally wake Changmin, and fighting back the fatigue that wanted to force Jaejoong into bed. 

Adding to the urge to go to bed was the fact that he knew Yoochun’s warm body would be there to curl around him. The Captain had said something earlier about Yoochun and Jaejoong finally getting rooms of their own as soon as Xia was offloaded, which meant his days of sharing body heat with his best friend were coming to a close. 

When Jaejoong had been a child, especially after the times he’d been bruised and hurting, Yoochun crowding him protectively under the warmth of heavy quilts had been one of the few comforts to be found.

His bunk on the ship was nothing to be desired, made up of a thin mattress pad and thinner blankets still, but it was his, and it was more than just a place to lick his wounds. Especially with Yoochun there. It had been a long time since a bed had been more than that.

So naturally, thinking so much about getting to sleep, no matter how little he wanted to leave Changmin’s side, he ended up falling asleep.

And he was shaken awake gently by Yunho’s soft voice murmuring to him, “Jaejoong. It’s me. It’s Yunho. You fell asleep.”

Jaejoong palmed at his eyes as he righted himself from the stool he’d been slumped on. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Yunho cupped a hand the back of his neck comfortingly. “It’s okay. You’re tired. You should get to bed.”

Jaejoong shook his head immediately. “It’s not that late, and Changmin--”

“Everyone else has already gone to bed,” Yunho intercepted, “except for Leeteuk who’s got the night shift on the bridge. And Changmin is fine. You said so yourself. He’s not the one who looks dead on his feet, and that’s saying something, because he’s the one who was shot.”

Jaejoong told Yunho, “You must be in a better place, too, if you’re joking about what happened. I wasn’t sure … you were pretty bad off when I performed surgery on Changmin. I only saw you for a second, but you looked …”

“Broken?” Yunho sighed out. He gestured for Jaejoong to follow him and together they slipped out of the infirmary. “You can say it. I sort of … lost it. Changmin … he’s everything to me, Jaejoong. If I lost him, I’d lose myself. You have a sister. You should know what I mean.”

“I do,” Jaejoong said, and it wasn’t a lie. “And I love her dearly, but we’re not close. I would do anything to protect her, but we’re not like you and Changmin are.” Jaejoong paused, horrible memories welling up on him. “It must be eating at you, how I could let my father run me around like I’m a child, control my every move, and beat me within an inch of my life even as an adult. And it’s because of her. She’s still a child, Yunho, and our father knows she’s my weakness.”

“He threatened her?”

Jaejoong nodded. “I mentioned before she’s a dancer--ballet. The one time I tried to defy him, the one time I tried to rebel and break free and be my own person, he threatened to break her legs so she’d never dance again. And he would. Gods, he might have already.”

Jaejoong leaned forward to brace his hands against his knees. He’d run away. He’d done the impossible, and his father must have been furious. He still had to be. There was a chance, a very real one, that he’d already taken his aggression out on Jaejoong’s sister.

If she never got to dance again and it was his fault …

“You can’t blame yourself,” Yunho said, reaching out to pull him up to his full height. “You did what you had to in order to keep yourself from falling apart and taking drastic measures. That’s not being selfish, it’s just being desperate.”

Jaejoong rubbed a hand along his forehead, more weary than he’d expected. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but until I know she’s safe, I won’t be able to stop thinking about it.” And she wouldn’t be safe until their father was dead.

“You’re dead on your feet,” Yunho said once more. “I’ll stay with Changmin, you get back to your bunk. I know it’s not the best on the ship, but the first time we have a chance, you can move to a better one--one o the crew quarters.”

“So,” Jaejoong hesitated. “I’m staying on then?”

Yunho gave him a surprised look. “I had hoped so. I mean, your secrets are out now, and you know this crew will protect you. You have a place here if you want it.”

“I want it,” Jaejoong confessed right away. “I’m just …”

“Scared?” Yunho asked.

Jaejoong shook his head. “I’m … not sure I deserve it.”

Was that what it really came down to? It felt that way. With every fiber of his being, Jaejoong didn’t feel he’d earned a place among the people that Yunho flew with. He didn’t deserve their friendship and their respect. Not yet. 

“I just--”

Yunho demanded, “Are you serious?”

Jaejoong was startled. He’d never seen Yunho look so furious. 

“You think you don’t deserve it?” Yunho questioned. “You are an amazing person, Jaejoong. You endured years of abuse to protect someone you love, and you became a brilliant doctor who saves lives every day because you care about other people. You are smart and wonderful and brave. Did I mention brave? Not everyone would fight for the life they want. Some would just roll over and give up. You are so damn brave and beautiful.” 

“Yunho,” Jaejoong gasped out, his heart so painful with how ferociously it was thumping in his chest.

“I think,” Yunho said deliberately slow, “you are beautiful. Not just the way you look, too, which is gorgeous, but your fire--the fight inside you. It’s beautiful. And I can’t help how I feel about you. I can’t help it and I don’t want to. Sometimes I look at you and I want to kiss you so badly I--”

Kisses in the past had been fleeting for Jaejoong. They’d been done in passing, given more for the thrill of it than the emotional attachment. But now, as he cut Yunho off with his mouth, pressing their lips together in way that surely caught the bigger man off guard, Jaejoong thought he was finally feeling the way kisses were intended to be.

“Yunho,” Jaejoong breathed out, lips nearly brushing again as he pressed his forehead against Yunho’s. “You’re strong and courageous and kind. You’re all the things that good men should be, but rarely are, and I have never felt this way about anyone else.”

There was such a spike of pleasure rushing through Jaejoong’s body as Yunho’s arms swept him up in a tight hold. He felt his head swimming. Then Yunho was pleading with him, “Stay here, you and Yoochun. Stay here and be a part of this crew. I know we don’t always stay on the right side of the law, and some of our jobs are more dangerous than they’re worth, but you’ll be safe here. We never stop moving, we’ll never give you up, and you could have a home here. You could find your place here.” 

Jaejoong hooked an arm around Yunho’s neck and bent to kiss his mouth again, laughing out, “You don’t need to convince me.”

“Good,” Yunho said, cradling Jaejoong’s jaw. “You’ll be happy here, I swear.”

Jaejoong already was. 

Then Yunho was kissing him, pouring adoration and dedication into the motion, and Jaejoong realized it wasn’t that he was simply happy. No, he was most certainly in love.


	11. Eleven: Changmin

Get shot in the gut was equivalent, at least in Changmin’s opinion, to getting run over by a ship piloted by an angry Kyuhyun. It was traumatic, to say the least, extremely painful, and debilitating. He imagined it was one of the worst things that could happen to the human body. But it was nothing compared to Yunho’s hovering, so that was saying something.

But hovering aside, Changmin wasn’t going to let all of his brother’s hard work spoil. Not when he knew that if New Haven was a bust, his brother and the crew they both called family would be out of fuel cells by the end of the week. And Changmin didn’t want to think of what kind of last second jobs Yunho would have to risk his life on to keep the ship flying.

While Changmin absolutely preferred his brother not pull illegal jobs, or those involving salvage, especially at risk of bringing down the wrath of the Alliance, those were still better than the halfcocked, half thought out jobs his brother could pull when times were desperate. At least the bigger, more risky ones were planned within an inch. When Yunho got reckless, Changmin could barely breathe.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Yunho asked, helping him sit fully up in the bed. A pillow was tucked behind his back to help support him and Changmin tried not to wince at the pull of his stitches. 

“I am.” Changmin gave his brother a shaky smile. “Where’s everyone else? Our two new friends?”

Inside the small infirmary, in a show of clutter that probably would have Jaejoong eventually kicking everyone out and leaving Changmin bored out of his mind, the whole of the crew was present. Well, not Jaejoong and Yoochun, who Changmin supposed were crew now. At least not since Yunho and Jaejoong had been caught kissing by Ryeowook, who’d promptly run off to tell everyone on the ship gleefully. And just after that Changmin, who’d been woken by the infirmary door shutting, had had a front row seat to seeing his brother kiss someone for the first time ever. 

Leeteuk checked his watch. “It’s very late. I think Yoochun and Jaejoong are out cold. And our guest, Xia?” Leeteuk glanced to Zhou Mi with a chuckle. “Don’t think I missed that you put him in the only guest room with a security lock on it.”

Zhou Mi looked unshaken. “I’m not taking any chances.”

“I locked him in,” Leeteuk told them all. “When we’re done, I’ll unlock it, but with the ship on auto, and all of us here, like Mi said, chances are better not taken.”

With a huff, and looking like he was anxious at the thought of being away from the engines for long, Onew asked, “What are we doing here? I thought the plan was a bust?”

“It is,” Yunho said, running a hand through his hair.

This was it, Changmin decided. He cleared his throat and said, “It’s absolutely not.”

Yunho gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You were shot. You’re on strict bed rest. You can’t play the part any more than I could at this point.”

Changmin rolled his eyes. “You never would have been able to play the part, Yunho.”

“This is a bad idea,” Ryeowook said, shaking his head. “You can’t leave the infirmary, and our plan hinges on you being able to work over this Choi Siwon.”

“Look,” Changmin said, interrupting the small bits of bickering that had broken out around him. “I admit … getting shot put a kink in the plans, but they’re not completely gone. Kyuhyun, how many more days until we reach New Haven?”

Kyuhyun rattled off easily, “About two full standard days, plus six hours until the party is scheduled to begin.”

Yunho gripped Changmin’s arm. “You’re not going to be recovered by then, not from a stomach wound. And pushing yourself trying to be is only going to end badly. Minnie, I assume your fiancé is already going to try and take a chunk out of me for letting this happen to you.”

“You didn’t let this happen to me,” Changmin said sourly. Then he turned back to the group. “I don’t need to be fully recovered. Look, more than actual companionship, I guarantee you all that Siwon is interested in my appearance at his gala. He wants to parade me around, have me sing a few songs, and have someone by his side complimenting him. This is far less about anything that comes after, and am I to assume that you don’t intend to let it get that far?”

Looking slightly panicked, Yunho rushed to say, “We’re not ever going to let it get that far, Changmin!” He looked a little wild in the eyes and Changmin wondered if he was still on edge from what had happened at the Moon Hub. Some wounds, Changmin knew well, were harder to heal than others. The invisible ones were the hardest yet.

“I still don’t know the details of your plan yet,” Changmin said, trying not to sound too impatient. The time would come when he’d know everything. “But of what I do know, you need me to be the excuse that gets you on the planet, then you need me to be the distraction that buys you enough time to crack Siwon’s family vault, which will be extremely difficult or next to impossible, I hope you realize. Then, am I to assume, that while I’m letting Siwon prattle on in my ear about things that absolutely bore me, you’re going to make a made dash for The Eye, which you’re absolutely certain is in the vault?”

Leeteuk cut in, “Afterwards, regardless of how the heist goes, we’ll extract you.”

Changmin arched an eyebrow. “It won’t be that easy, I assure you. Siwon is … a man who expected to get his credits worth. He’ll have me glued to his side the entire night, and he’ll have his men watching me. I hope you have something else to draw his attention. And let me remind you, I don’t want to be in another firefight. Getting shot once is enough to hold me over for the rest of my life.”

Tenderly Kyuhyun offered, “But Minnie, we can’t do any of this because you’re injured.”

“My point,” Changmin corrected, “in telling you all of this, is that nothing that I just mentioned, sans the firefight I will not be getting into, requires me to do much of anything except stand around.”

Eyeing him, Onew wondered, “Can you even stand?”

“Without falling over?” Kyuhyun interjected.

Changmin pinched him. “Of course I can.” He added a second later, “At least I think I can. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with my legs, and given enough pain killers, I’m pretty sure I can do anything.”

“No,” Yunho declared. “It was risky enough before. It’s just stupid now. We’re scraping the plans.”

“No, we’re not,” Changmin pressed back. “We are not. I have not listened to you go on about The Eye for years, and endured wild goose chase after wild goose chase for you to give up on the only opportunity to actually have it, because I’m in a little pain.”

“A little!”

Leeteuk wondered, “What if we get Jaejoong in here? Captain, he can be the one to tell us for sure if Changmin can stand on his feet for a few hours, if we give him enough to numb the pain.”

Yunho snapped, “Did you or did you not hear me when I said we’re not doing this? It’s too big of a risk now.”

“Yunho,” Changmin said, trying to be as calm and gentle as possible. It was all too obvious that his big brother still thought of him as little Minnie, the kid who’d lived out on the streets, shivering for warmth and trying not to starve to death. “I’m not a child anymore. I’m not incapable of making my own decisions and judging the risks for myself. I’m trusting you to keep the ending of this from going sour, but also that if it does, you’ll get me out in one piece. That’s all I’m asking of you. Trust.”

The awkward tension in the room was only building in pressure as Yunho said, “This has nothing to do with trust. I’m the Captain. I make the calls here, even when no one else likes them.”

“Okay,” Changmin shrugged. “Don’t pull your job. Don’t feed your crew or keep this ship flying, but I’m still going down there, and don’t try and tell me you can stop me. I have a contract, and don’t you forget for one second that backing out without a valid reason could tarnish my name. I might be retiring, but my name will follow me, and I can’t do that to Minho.”

Yunho was on the verge of exploding when Kyuhyun mumbled out, voice unsure but loud enough to be heard, “This ship isn’t a democracy. I think we all understand that. But you need us to help you fly her. You need me to pilot. You need Onew to keep the engine going. You need Ryeowook to not poison you.”

“Hey!” Ryeowook shouted.

Kyuhyun risk the beginnings of a smile. “You need us all in some way, Captain. So you should probably take a second to think that you’re not the only one who believes in The Eye. You’re not the only one who wants to find it, and there might be more of us for this plan than against it.”

Changmin gave Kyuhyun a quick look. Yunho would never hurt him, but his anger, when it eventually got worked up into something tangible, was something to be feared.

“You’re treading on some thin ice right there, Kyuhyun.”

“But he’s not wrong,” Zhou Mi said, his front to Kyuhyun’s back. 

Changmin sunk back against his pillows with some weariness. “Yunho, listen to your crew. Or at the very least get Jaejoong in here to say whether or not I can be up and play my part of the ruse. If Jaejoong says no, we’ll scrap everything, okay? But if he says yes, we have to go ahead. We have to try.”

If Yunho dug his heels in any more, said no and refused to even try, Changmin wasn’t sure what their options were. It also meant Changmin would be forced to transfer a good deal of money from his own account to his brother’s, and endure the anger and the hurt pride that was sure to follow. Yunho likely wouldn’t speak to him for months, maybe even wouldn’t come to the wedding, and their relationship would be strained. 

It was Leeteuk, surprisingly enough, who broke the silence among them and said, “We need this job, Captain. So I say we let the doctor take another look at Changmin. I’ve known Changmin a long time, Yunho. Not as long as you, but long enough to know what it looks like when he’s determined. He’s going down onto that planet no matter what. If we back him up or not, isn’t really relevant.”

“We’ll have to tell him at least something,” Zhou Mi reminded.

“No,” Leeteuk shook his head. “We’ll tell him only what the needs to know. This isn’t the job to start him out with. So we’ll tell him that Changmin has a contract with Choi. We’ll tell him he needs medical clearance to go down there and perform his expected duties. If Jaejoong says no, then Changmin, you have your medical exemption that Choi can’t use against you for any kind of dark mark on your record. But if he says yes, we have our way onto New Haven, and a lot more details to talk about.”

“Captain?” Ryeowook broached quietly. 

“Yunho?” Changmin reached for him, “I can do this. Even if this isn’t about trust for you, trust me anyway.”

When he felt Yunho squeeze his hand, Changmin sighed in sweet relief.

“We go by what Jaejoong says,” Yunho told them authoritatively. “No compromises.”

“In the morning?” Leeteuk asked.

Yunho nodded. “First thing.”

Changmin waited patiently as the other shuffled off, a predictable Yunho staying by his side.

When they’d had at last a few more seconds of peace, Changmin requested softly, “I want to see it, Yunho.”

Yunho gave him a wary but knowing look right away. “Until Jaejoong says one way or another I don’t think--”

“Yunho,” Changmin said. “I know how you feel about it, and because of that, I haven’t asked to see it in a very long time. But I want to see it now.”

With deft fingers, but certainly an unhappy look on his face, Yunho’s fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt, and he undid them one by one, telling Changmin, “It hasn’t changed from the last time you saw it.”

“No, but it’s been about seven years from that last time. Now, let me see.”

When his brother’s shirt was gone, Yunho turned very slowly to show his back to Changmin, the muscles along his shoulders tight with tension and anxiety.

“Gods, Yunho,” Changmin breathed out.

The first time he’d seen his brother’s back Changmin had been a child, and while he’d been fascinated by the ink that sprawled from one side of Yunho’s back to the other, it hadn’t been until he’d gotten older that he’d recognized it for what it was.

“There it is,” Changmin says, his fingers brushing over ink that had long since started to fade, along ancient text, beautiful drawings, and all sorts of things that made absolutely no sense.

Changmin had asked once, many years ago, “Who would do this to a child?” Who would cover a child’s back in ink, half of it written in a language that neither of them could even identify, let alone speak. 

Yunho had simply said, “Someone who wants me to find the Eye.”

Yunho, in all his honesty about his tattoos to Changmin, had never denied that they were what motivated him. Yunho remembered nothing of his life before roughly his eighth year, and he certainly didn’t remember getting the tattoos, but he was convinced, and maybe Changmin was too, that the Eye meant more than finding a priceless treasure. The Eye also meant Yunho finding out some or all of his past. 

Someone had put those tattoos on his back for a reason. Someone had put him after The Eye. 

Changmin wasn’t going to let Yunho give up the best shot they had at finding out who that someone was, just because he was in a little pain.

“You satisfied now?” Yunho demanded, pulling his shirt back on.

“You still have the disk?”

Yunho nodded, and said nothing else.

Changmin sighed. “Yunho, I don’t know why you’re fighting us on this. This is the closest we’ve ever been to the Eye. Once we have the Eye, you can fit it into the disk, and it’ll work like a compass.”

The disk, a larger than fist sized golden object, had always been in Yunho’s possession. Changmin’s earliest memories were of curling up next to Yunho at night, the disk huddled between them, Yunho forever trying to decide if selling it was the right thing to do, at least to keep them fed, clothed and warm.

The tattoos on Yunho’s back correlated perfectly to the disk, and there was no doubt that the slot in it was meant for the Eye, which would likely lead to the vault. The vault. Yunho believed if they found the vault, they’d find the history of Earth that was, and his own history as well. Changmin had never really believed that, but now as they edged closer to the Eye, Changmin was starting to reconsider.

“Fighting you on this?” Yunho questioned. “This is about you wanting me to sacrifice the most important thing in my life right now, for a possible shot at something that we don’t even know for sure is going to be there.”

“But it’s a shot at you finally getting your answers,” Changmin said, watching Yunho head to the infirmary doors. “I want you to have those answers.”

Yunho shrugged, “I want answers too, Minnie, more than you I’d think. But there are no answers in this ‘verse, I want you to understand, worth risking your life over.”

As Yunho left, feet dragging wearily across the floor, Changmin wondered if he hadn’t run him off. His brother was always particularly prickly about his past and the tattoos. Yunho had a spectacularly ornery disposition, and he could be hard to handle when Changmin pushed him on matter of the Eye. Even now, Changmin wasn’t sure if he’d upset Yunho or not. He wasn’t sure of anything about Yunho at the moment.

Without the aid of more than a basic pain killer, sleep was elusive for Changmin that night. He found himself counting the minutes ticking away more than sleeping, and with only his thoughts for comfort, it was a long night.

He did eventually fall asleep, however. He knew this only because it was the soft rumble of voices that woke him, his eyelids feeling heavy and a dull throb in his head promising to become a headache later on. 

Changmin traced the genesis of the voices to the hallway outside the infirmary, where through the big window Yunho and Jaejoong’s forms were just visible.

It was a little odd to see the way Yunho was leaning so easily into Jaejoong’s personal space, a wide and authentic grin on his face. He looked pleased, and not as sleepy as he had to be. It was even odder to watch the gentle way Yunho cupped the side of Jaejoong’s face before leaning in for a tentative kiss that blossomed into something much more passionate. 

Changmin’s brother had never been one for romance. That was a defining characteristic of his. He was focused on his work, determined to keep his crew flying, and not easily distracted by things he considered inconsequential. Changmin had rarely known his brother to show romantic attention to anyone.

Jaejoong seemed different, and it wasn’t simply in the way Yunho was constantly hovering around him.

Changmin supposed there was something very attractive about Jaejoong. He was attractive, no doubt, but also kindhearted, witty, and durable. He was all the things that Yunho found himself drawn to in people. And then of course there was something else. Something Changmin couldn’t put his finger on, but something that had pulled the two together. 

Maybe it was just fate.

For a long time now Yunho had been deserving of a strong partner to help shoulder some of the weight. Jaejoong had all the potential in the world to be that person, and Changmin kind of hoped he was.

A few seconds more of watching them kiss and Changmin could pick up the delicacies of their budding romance. He could see Yunho’s big hands on Jaejoong’s waist, curling and protecting and holding secure. And in response Jaejoong was pushing up into the kiss, an arm crooking around the back of Yunho’s neck as the kissed like oxygen was an afterthought. 

Changmin reached for a pack of surgical gloves nearby and lobbed the box at the window. It bounced off, instantly startling the two. Changmin flashed them both a grin.

“You’re a little brat, Changmin,” Yunho ground out, entering the infirmary a second later. He was flushed in the face, but far less guilty looking that Jaejoong who followed slightly after, fingers brushing against lips that were slightly swollen and very red. 

He was a little brother. No matter how old he got, Changmin recognized the fact that he was a little brother, and that meant he had to maintain a certain image with his big brother. 

“I take it you’re feeling even better today, than you did yesterday?” Jaejoong asked, taking a second to meet his eyes.

“I could say the same thing to you,” Changmin shot back.

Yunho pinched him. “Let your doctor look you over. Less sass, please.”

“I don’t mind it,” Jaejoong said good naturedly. “It means he’s really starting to feel better, which is all I could ask for.” Jaejoong requested, “Can you sit up for me? I need to check the wound.”

As Jaejoong’s cold fingers probed the wound, Changmin only feeling a dull throb now, instead of a sharp shooting pain that he had typically felt in the past, he gave Yunho a pointed look. Now was the time to ask.

Yunho hesitated and Changmin rolled his eyes.

“Jaejoong,” Changmin posed, ignoring his brother completely. “Do you know why I’m on this ship right now?”

Jaegoong’s hands stilled. “A Companion typically attaches themselves to a ship in order to fulfill contracts taken.”

Changmin gave a nod. “Correct. And I’ve taken one recently. That’s why we’re heading so deep into Core space. Our destination is New Haven. Now, in light of recent developments,” he gestured to his wound, “I need you, as my acting doctor, to clear me to fulfill my contractual obligations.”

It took a minute to register with Jaejoong, and Changmin could clearly see him working out what was being spoken. Then he was straightening up, flustered, and stammered a little, “Ah, Changmin, I don’t … well … really not best if … you … ah …”

Yunho turned away to hide a smile and Changmin soothed, “I’ve a contract with Choi Siwon. He’s requested my services for his birthday gala. I need to be there.”

“You have a stomach wound,” Jaejoong said carefully. “It’s not the type of wound that lends itself to any--”

“Jaejoong,” Changmin cut in. “I’m his guest for the gala. I’m expected to stand at his side and look handsome. That’s what I’m asking. Can I be cleared for standing on my feet? That’s all.”

Changmin had no doubt that Choi was expecting far more than a party favor. He was certainly expecting services fully rendered, most certainly those that typically took place in the bedroom, but Changmin had no doubt that the disturbance Yunho would cause would be more than enough of a distraction for Choi to prioritize other things. 

“Stand?” Jaejoong repeated. 

“At the gala,” Changmin clarified. “I can’t easily break this contract, Jaejoong. Choi Siwon is … a difficult man to deny.”

“He won’t understand you’ve been shot?”

“He won’t care,” Changmin said. “Now, can I be doped up on enough painkillers to make it a few hours?”

There was a disapproving look on Jaejoong’s face. “I can’t say it’s something I recommend. While you seem to be healing very nicely, your wound isn’t something to be glossed over. You were, shot, Changmin, you lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go for a second or two.”

It was Yunho’s rough voice cutting in, “Can he do it?” that was the most surprising. 

After some consideration, Jaejoong gave a nod, and Changmin felt sweet relief.

“A few hours on his feet?” Jaejoong posed. “I wouldn’t recommend it, but with the rate he’s healing at, it’s possible. He could do it.”

Changmin turned to Yunho. “Good enough for you?”

Jaejoong changed Changmin’s bandage quickly and remarked, “Why do I get the feeling there’s something more going on here?”

“Trust me,” Yunho broke in. “You don’t want any part of this.

“You’re right about that,” Jaejoong said, settling Changmin back down on the bed and pulling up his blanket. “Choi Siwon? I’ve heard stories about him.”

Changmin’s stomach fell as Yunho’s face darkened. This was the last thing they needed, the absolute last.

“What kind of stories?”

“The kind that don’t matter,” Changmin said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “Yunho, I’ve dealt with Choi before I know how to handle him. Don’t worry about it.”

But Yunho wasn’t looking at him. Yunho’s gaze was directed completely at an uncomfortable looking Jaejoong, and Changmin knew he’d already lost.

“What kind of stories?”

“The kind,” Jaejoong said slowly, looking between them, “that travel all the way from New Haven to Helios, especially in the circles that often request the services of Companions. I heard my father talking once or twice about Choi Siwon. They said he …” Jaejoong grimaced and Changmin would have traded anything in that moment, absolutely anything to shut him up.

“Jaejoong,” Yunho said, and Changmin felt his brother grip his arm so tightly it was uncomfortable. “I need to speak with Changmin right now. Can you excuse us please?”

Changmin’s stomach continued to sink as Jaejoong mumbled, “Sure. I’ll just go grab some breakfast. And when I get back, Changmin, we can talk about moving you out of the infirmary finally. I know you have to be bored out of your mind here, and there’s no reason you can’t continue to recover in your own room.”

Changmin wasn’t sure there was going to be enough of him left, after Yunho and he had the talk that was coming, to recover in his own room.

As expected, Yunho hardly waited for Jaejoong to leave before he was rounding on Changmin, demanding to know, “What have you been hiding from me about this Choi guy?”

“It’s nothing,” Changmin tried to protest, the thumping in his head only growing. He massaged his temples and said, “He’s not exactly the friendliest guy around, Yunho, but I’ve taken a contract with him before.”

“You tell me now,” Yunho said, drawing himself up to his full height, “why Jaejoong was surprised that you’d be going anywhere near him, or else I’m calling this whole thing off.”

Changmin shouted, “You can’t do that! We had an agreement with Jaejoong. If he cleared me, you had to give the go ahead!”

“I’m the Captain,” Yunho snapped back, “I can change my mind whenever I want to!”

“Yunho!”

“Choi has a reputation, doesn’t he?” Yunho inquired. “And it probably isn’t a good one. That’s what Jaejoong was alluding to, and I bet you knew the whole time.”

Instead of answering those questions, Changmin posed his own, “It’s not like Choi has a black mark with the Companion’s Guild or anything, Yunho. Stop being so overdramatic. I wouldn’t have been allowed to take the contract if that were the case.”

“But?”

Changmin made an angry sound, then said, “Choi Siwon is know for being … a little heavy handed with his Companions.”

Yunho’s eyes narrowed. “Describe heavy handed.”

Changmin hesitated, and it only looked liked he was making the situation worse by doing so.

“Changmin?”

The anger fell away from Yunho’s face and instead what Changmin was left with was an upset and concerned older brother. An angry Yunho Changmin could deal with. A worried older brother? That seemed to be Changmin’s mortal weakness.

Changmin frowned and said, “Some men, you should understand this Yunho, just aren’t as gentle as they should be. Choi is one of those men. The last time I took a contract with him, I thoroughly disliked the bruises he left.”

And angry Yunho seemed to be back as his brother vowed, “I’ll kill him.”

“It never seemed to be on purpose,” Changmin wagered, trying to calm Yunho. “But he has a very strong grip, and he’s not considerate of his partners. Most Companions won’t take him on as a client now. He hasn’t done anything to revoke his right to contract out to the Companion’s Guild, but we all know how he handles his Companions. Well, in retrospect I guess he hasn’t gotten caught doing anything that could revoke his rights.”

“Caught?” Yunho echoed.

This was delicate ground Changmin was walking, even telling someone like Yunho. There were quite a few Guild secrets that were meant to be kept within the Guild with no exceptions. Yunho was exceptionally unlikely to go spreading such things around, but even the risk of it was something dangerous.

“There was a Companion contracted by Choi for her services about a sixteen months ago,” Changmin said, curling his fingers around his blankets. “The rumor is, and this is purely rumor, Yunho, that he hurt her. He handled her poorly, she was set to report a black mark against him, which as you know would have forever barred him from being able to purchase the services of a Companion again, but there was an accident before any of that could happen.” 

Yunho sat himself on the edge of Changmin’s bed and reached for his hand, prying it away from the blanket and squeezing it. “What kind of accident?”

“The Companion,” Changmin said, “was involved in a shuttle accident as she was leaving New Haven for the ship she was attached to. Before she broke atmo there was an explosion. An investigation determined it was an issue with the compression seal of the shuttle, but the shuttle was nearly brand new, and there was no other manufacturer issues reported by anyone else who purchased the same class shuttle. There’s no way that shuttle exploded on its own, Yunho, but no one could ever prove that it was Choi, even if we all think it was.”

“Gods,” Yunho breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “And you want me to leave you alone with this monster?”

“I won’t be alone with him,” Changmin said in an exacerbated way. “I’ll be in a ballroom with around three hundred other people. Choi is a brute, I’ll admit that, but he’s a smart one. He wouldn’t dare do anything with so many eyes watching.”

Yunho huffed out, “And the Guild didn’t think anything was suspicious enough about the Companion’s death to get a black mark against Choi? Why not?”

Changmin explained, “Black marks aren’t handed out lightly, Yunho. The Guild and its members are defined by the reputation, therefore, if a black mark is going to be levied against a customer, it’s important that the tribunal be completely in agreement, and all of that hinges on the Companion’s testimony. In this case, there was no Companion to give her story, and all of the proof went up in flames with the shuttle. Choi isn’t just another privileged high society elitist, Yunho. New Haven is very influential in the Core, and his family has been a keystone of that influence for over a hundred years. His name carries weight, and the Guild didn’t believe they could levy a black mark against him and not be discredited. I know it isn’t fair or right, but it’s what happened. It’s how things happen sometimes.”

“I am not letting you go down there,” Yunho said. “I’m not letting you within a fuel cell’s distance of him.”

“No,” Changmin said, squeezing Yunho’s hand back, “this is why it’s the perfect moment for me to go in. Yunho, no Companion has accepted a contract with Choi since that shuttle accident happened. By all accounts, he enjoys himself more thoroughly when he purchases his pleasure and companionship, rather than when it’s given to him freely, so he’s been quite interested in securing Companion services. His desperation is what’s getting us this opening, and it’s what’ll make him less careful, giving you more of an opportunity.”

Yunho let out a shuddering breath. “You realize you’re asking me to let you near someone who’s probably responsible for a Companion’s death?”

“I’m not asking,” Changmin reminded. 

Yunho said darkly, “You should have told me about this sooner. Choi is more of a threat now than I thought before.”

Changmin rubbed a hand across his forehead. “This doesn’t change anything, Yunho. I know how to handle Choi. I’ll do my part. I need you to keep a clear and level head enough to do yours.” 

“That’s going to be difficult,” Yunho said. “Any chance you could stick a hairpin in Choi’s side when he’s not looking? You know, one of those really pretty, extremely long pins you wear sometimes?”

If only. 

“I can’t,” Changmin said, offering Yunho a tentative smile. “Though trust me, I’d very much like to. I knew the Companion who died. Noore was a friend of mine. You stealing the Eye from Choi is about more than just a score to me. It’s about a little payback, too.”

Yunho slumped down next to Changmin on the bed and said, “Tomorrow we’re going to sit down and work out the last of the kinks. All of us. You’ve actually been to Choi’s house on New Haven before. You can give us the kind of inside information that we desperately need. And we still have to figure out who’s going down to the planet with us. You got us two escorts, right?”

Changmin nodded, then offered, “If you take Mi, Kyuhyun is going to eat you alive.”

“Yeah, well, he’s going to have to suffer a sudden attack of teenage angst, then.”

“He’s hardly a teenager,” Changmin said. Kyuhyun was nineteen, but he’d be twenty before the end of the year. “Does that mean you are taking Mi?’

“I don’t know,” Yunho said honestly. “I’d feel better about who I take and who I leave if we didn’t have our extra passenger on board with us.”

Changmin gave a nod of agreement. He hadn’t actually seen their guest himself just yet, and Changmin had a good idea that was a conscious decision on at least Yunho’s part, maybe other members of the crew as well. But he knew that the man they’d picked up gave quite a few members of the crew bad feelings, and left everyone feeling like he was the last person they wanted on a ship that was about to pull off something highly illegal.

“You could always space him,” Changmin joked

“Leeteuk wanted to,” Yunho said, and in a way that left Changmin completely unsure if he was being serious or not. “The fact remains, I have to keep someone here who is capable of putting him down if he causes a problem in any way. And that person also has to be capable of running this ship and crew if anything happens to me down on the planet.”

Changmin was doing his absolute best not to think that that was even the slightest possibility. 

“And you think that person is Leeteuk?”

Yunho nodded. “He’s been with me since the beginning, Minnie. He knows just as much about this ship as I do, and he can run her. If the worst happens, Leeteuk can go on. That’s all that matters.”

“Which,” Changmin continued, “means you need to take Mi with you down to the planet. In case things get dicey.”

Quietly, Yunho said, “I know Kyuhyun won’t be happy about that. He’s terrified of what happened to Joon, happening to Mi. But I need a power house with me, just in case, and Mi fulfills that requirement.” Yunho tucked in close to Changmin. “I will do my absolute best not to put you in danger for even a second. I will protect you to the best of my ability, Minnie, but I have to know that if something goes bad down there, I have someone with me who can help me get you out. So I don’t really care if Kyuhyun likes it or not. He’s not going down there. You are.”

Yunho really was the best big brother in the world. Changmin had never had doubts before, but he’d also never felt so strongly about it.

“This is going to be one hell of a crazy ride, Yunho,” Changmin said with a chuckle, “but it’s going to work out in the end. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Do you? Are you actually feeling okay?” Yunho’s concerned face slid into view and he pulled Changmin’s hand away from his forehead where he’d been rubbing it. He pressed the back of his own hand to Changmin’s forehead and said, “I think you’re a little warm. Changmin …”

“I’m hot because I’m all worked up,” Changmin said, batting his hand away. “And I’m fine. I’m actually fine, Yunho.” He was feeling a little unwell, but that came part and parcel with being shot. Not to mention, he’d just gotten Yunho to agree to the job. He couldn’t risk destroying that just because he had a headache.

“Alright,” Yunho eased out, and Changmin was sure that was the easiest his brother had ever left him alone. “I’m going to go track down Jaejoong and let him know we’re done clawing at each other.”

Yunho rolled off the bed and Changmin called to him, “You mean you’re going to go make out with him some more.”

“You are such a brat, Minnie,” Yunho said, pulling open the infirmary doors with a smile. “You’re lucky you’re my kid brother.”

“You’re the one who’s lucky I’m your brother!”

Yunho shook his head as he left, and Changmin let out a shuddering breath. He brought his hand back up to his forehead to rub again and even he couldn’t deny that he felt hot. Hopefully it would pass. But even if it didn’t, there wasn’t a chance in the ‘verse Changmin was letting his condition ruin this for Yunho. Not when his brother deserved his answers so very much. 

Changmin would rather die first.


	12. Twelve: Leeteuk

“So Changmin is okay?

From across the room in his private cabin, Leeteuk paused brushing his teeth to spit into the tiny sink in front of him. He leaned back so that he could see Heechul’s face on the mostly clear screen of the data port. “Yeah,” he called out. He reached for a towel and wiped the rest of the toothpaste from his mouth. 

“Are you okay?”

Leeteuk abandoned his toothbrush and moved closer to the screen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Looking every bit the Companion that he was, posh and respectable and beautiful, Heechul had a suspicious look on his face. He reminded Leeteuk, “You love that kid as much as Yunho does. I’d be surprised if you weren’t still all worked up. I imagine Yunho still is.”

“But I wasn’t there,” Leeteuk said, sighing hard. “The second we realized Changmin was missing from the ship, Yunho went after him. I had to wait a few seconds to make sure Mi was going to stay with the ship. Those seconds cost me any chance at catching up with the Captain until he was already cradling Changmin’s body, bullet in him by that point. In fact I didn’t did get until they were already making a run for the ship. I didn’t have to see him get shot, not like Yunho.”

“But you had to wait to see if he’d live, just like Yunho. You had to put your faith in someone who could have been a hack.”

“Jaejoong saved Changmin’s life,” Leeteuk was quick to clarify. “The truth is, he could have disappeared into the crowd. He could have taken off. He didn’t owe us anything. But he stayed. He got back on a ship he had no plans to, and worked the entire night to save Changmin’s life. And he’s crew now, so you’ll get to meet him eventually.”

Heechul arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know Yunho was in the habit of taking on crew members so suddenly.”

“He is,” Leeteuk chuckled, “when he’s making out with them.”

Heechul looked absolutely surprised, then said, “Alright. Fair enough. I look forward to meeting him, then.”

Leeteuk found himself grinning wider. “I have a good feeling about the both of them, Chul. I get it when I look at them. Jaejoong and Yoochun both, even if Yoochun is a little more ornery than I’d like.”

Heechul turned away on his end to say something to someone nearby and Leeteuk was intimately reminded that they weren’t alone. In fact, they were probably being monitored. He immediately vowed to be more careful with his words, and to certainly not mention any real names again. Neither of them could afford for Jaejoong or Yoochun to be linked to them. 

Companions belonging to the Persephone House were much different from the kind that belonged to Helios. More than one he’d been utterly shocked by the amount of control the House on Persephone exhibited on its Companions. And Leeteuk very much doubted that Heechul could simply retire at the moment if he wanted it. Not like Changmin who’d fallen in love and wanted something different.

Leeteuk looked at Heechul at times and wondered if he didn’t want the same.

“Have to go soon?” Leetuek asked when Heechul’s attention came back to him.

“We’re fine,” Heechul insisted, an apprehensive pull to his face.

Of course there was. They hadn’t even begun to speak about the purpose of the call. And it would be tricky to get it all out in the right away. It always was. 

“Anyway,” Leeteuk said, “I’m on a job right now.”

“Nothing too dangerous,” Heechul asked. “You know the Rim isn’t safe in some places.”

“Neither is the Core,” Leeteuk returned. “Especially for the next few months.”

The translation, he hoped, was simple enough. He wasn’t in Rim space, but any plans they wanted to make would have to wait a few more months. The Core wasn’t somewhere that a meeting could take place, either.

Heechul would have to be patient for him.

For Hankyung.

“Not getting into trouble, right?” Heechul pressed.

“Nothing more than usual,” Leeteuk said. “But if you wanted to tentatively lay some plans for us to meet up, I’d love to purchase the pleasure of your company in a few months. I think I’ll be out near New Beijing. I know, it’ll be a hassle for you to get out here …”

“It’s fine,” Heechul was quick to say. 

Leeteuk had no doubt that Heechul would have been willing to travel to the Rim, if necessary. However his House would have been less willing. And New Beijing was a safe spot of sorts. It had a magnificent space port that Companions traveled to frequently, and it was such at the edge of Core space that the Alliance wouldn’t be hanging around in full force, looking for a certain wanted resistance fighter--for a Browncoat with a bounty on his head greater than Jaejoong and Yoochun combined.

“My contract price has gone up,” Heechul eased out, eyes narrowing in such a way that Leeteuk was able to easily discern that it wasn’t Heechul’s decision for such a thing. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why don’t I check on that,” Leeteuk said. How much more could Hankyung afford to pay? Leeteuk wasn’t sure. Fighting the Alliance didn’t exactly pay, and Leeteuk himself was running short of funds to contribute to their meeting. But if they got any sort of payoff from this Eye job … Leeteuk might actually have enough money to get the monitoring chip cut out of Heechul and smuggle him off Persephone for a better, happier life.

Heechul said calmly, “Please do that,” but there was so much pleading in his eyes that Leeteuk knew he’d do anything to make it happen.

The truth was he wasn’t even sure how Hankyung and Heechul had first met. Leeteuk had known them separately through different means for countless years, and it was only when their back stories had slowly come out, that Leeteuk had started to put the pieces together.

And they were a funny pair. A Browncoat resistance fighter and a Companion. An impossible combination, and a dangerous one at that. Both of them were shrouded in mystery, no matter how well Leeteuk knew them, and they kept their secrets well.

What he did know was that they were desperately in love.

And that apparently the ‘verse seemed determined to keep them apart. After all, how else would it be that Heechul had ended up essentially an Alliance controlled Companion and Hankyung was the man who’d helped start a new rebel force after the previous Browncoats were smothered out of existence at the battle of Serenity. 

Leeteuk as absolutely a sucker for love stories. That was what he told himself. That was why he acted as a liaison between the two of them, negotiating Heechul’s contract for time whenever possible, arranging meetings between the two of them, and keeping an eye out to make sure there were no unwanted attention directed towards their meetings. It was something that, if caught, could put Leeteuk in an Alliance work camp for years. Or worse.

But it was worth it.

It was worth it each and every time Leeteuk got to see Hankyung hold Heechul tightly and whisper at him how much he loved him and how things wouldn’t always be as they were.

No, Leeteuk assumed eventually they’d be worse. Heechul was being run into the ground at the moment, losing his way within the Companion Guild, losing his connection to the purpose of his work. And Hankyung was coming ever closer to being caught. Leeteuk hated that he could see how things would end for them. They saw each other fewer and fewer times a year, and eventually they’d stop completely.

Leeteuk could hardly bear to think what that would do to either of them.

“I’ll contact you again,” Leeteuk said. Getting a message to Hankyung wasn’t going to be easy. Especially with how deep they were in Alliance Core space at the moment. But he needed to know Heechul’s price had gone up, and that meeting in the near future was too dangerous.

“Thank you,” Heechul said. “And give my best to Chamgmin. I hear he’s getting married. That’s quite an accomplishment for a Companion. Few go down that path.”

“We’ll see about there being a wedding,” Leeteuk laughed out. “Yunho’s pretty much convinced that the second he brings Changmin back to Helios that fiancé of his is going to freak out. If he’d stop worrying he’d realize that Minho is about to become his best friend with the way they both worry over Changmin.”

“I can’t imagine I’d be pleased if Yunho brought my fiancé back to me with a bullet in him.”

Leeteuk reported, “It’s certainly not in him anymore.” Then he paused with a frown.

“What is it?” Heechul asked. 

Leeteuk perched himself on the edge of his bed so he could rest his elbows on his knees. He told Heechul, “There’s something weird about the bullet that ended up in Changmin. It’s bothering Onew and Ryeowook. And truthfully, it’s bothering me, too.” He explained the odd markings on the bullet to Heechul and wondered if he could give any insight.

“You have a problem, Leeteuk,” was what Heechul replied with, and Leeteuk leaned forward towards the screen.

“I don’t like the sound of that. Do you know what the markings on the bullet mean?”

“Not in particular,” Heechul said, voice lowering. “But in general, yes. Leeteuk, it’s a tradition of sorts within the more established and family operated bounty hunting rings to engrave their bullets with their family emblem. It’s a calling card. It’s proof that a certain family can claim responsibility for the kill, and it’s proof that the bounty hunter in general fired the bullet with the utmost confidence that they’ve got the authority to do so. I’m not surprised you don’t know about this. bounty hunters don’t advertise this for a reason.”

Shakily, Leeteuk asked, “Why would a bounty hunter put a bullet into Changmin? He’s a Companion, Heechul. You guys are practically untouchable.”

Heechul shrugged. “It depends on the bounty, Leeteuk. Some bounty contracts allow bounty hunters the right to take out anyone in their way of recovering the target. Companions aren’t untouchable in those situations, especially if the bounty hunter thinks he or she can make a claim that the Companion was prohibiting the recovery.” Heechul pursed his lips and then asked concerned, “Is there anyone that Changmin was around recently with a bounty out on them? The bounty hunter could have tried to take him out simply for association, or maybe even to cause a distraction.”

“Shit,” Leeteuk eased out, shoulders slumping.

“Leeteuk?”

“I need to go,” Leeteuk said, standing wearily. 

There was no mistaking the fact that both Jaejoong and Yoochun had bounties out for their return. Changmin had gone after them on the space station, probably caught up to them, too, or damn near, and if there’d been a bounty hunter laying in wait …

Did that mean they had one on their tail right now? This was the last thing they needed at the moment, especially with a job to pull.

And how was he going to tell the Captain? Would that make him look at Jaejoong any different? For him to know there was a strong possibility that Changmin had been hurt because of the bounty out on Jaejoong? How could Leeteuk knowingly sabotage the best relationship the Captain had ever had with anyone, especially since it was in such a budding stage?

Heechul broke in, “Look, I have to go too, Leeteuk. But you have the bullet don’t you?”

Mouth dry, Leeteuk couldn’t answer. He could only nod. 

“Send me a scan of it,” Heechul offered.

“A scan?”

Heechul nodded. “I’ve got quite a few contacts on Persephone of the bounty hunter variety. If you send me a scan of it, I may be able to ask around. It won’t be much to know which bounty hunter is after you, because if there’s one, there’s probably more, but you never know. At the very least I could give you a face to watch out for. That’s something, right?”

“Thank you,” Leeteuk said, giving his old friend a smile of appreciation. “It is something. And I’ll make sure to check on that new price. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Heechul gave him a nod and ended the transmission.

Standing there alone in his cabin, toothbrush forgotten, Leeteuk desperately hoped that he was wrong about there being any tie to Jaejoong. And it was entirely possible that it was a mere fluke. There was nothing in the entire incident that said the bounty hunter bullet which had ended up in Changmin, had meant to be there from the start. 

A sharp knock on his door startled him and Zhou Mi poked his head in. “Ready?”

The meeting. Of course.

Leeteuk forced himself to offer Zhou Mi an encouraging smile. “Of course. Give me a second?”

“Sure.” Zhou Mi ducked out of the room and Leeteuk decided in that moment he’d say nothing to the Captain. He’d say nothing to anyone, other than maybe Onew who likely still had the bullet. Until he heard from Heechul again, or had some kind of definitive answer, what he’d learned would only cause problems. And distractions. This wasn’t the time to have distractions. 

The long awaited meeting, something that Leeteuk was terrified wouldn’t go over well with the crew, was held in the same room they used for their meals. It was a room easy to lock off, but also offered them enough room so they weren’t crawling over each other like the group of them would have been in some of the smaller rooms on the ship.

“Go ahead, Changmin,” Yunho said, after Leeteuk had finished securing the door behind him and they were all present and accounted for.

Front and center, Changmin leveled up a larger than normal data pad so they could all see the blueprints displayed on it. Maybe it was just the lighting in the room, or the fact that he was still recovering, but to Leeteuk Changmin still looked quite pale. But it was something notable that he was out of the infirmary and had even made the walk from his bunk to the dinning area. It had probably been at a snail’s pace, but he’d managed it. 

“If I can have your attention,” Changmin requested. “Now, I’ve had the pleasure of being hosted by Choi Siwon before. And per Guild law, he was required to provide me with information of where I’d be staying for the duration of my visit. I’ll note here that Siwon was all too quick to forward me the blueprints to what we’ll be calling his sprawling estate, not castle--Kyuhyun.”

“It looks like a castle to me,” Kyuhyun defended. 

“Estate,” Changmin said firmly. “These are from around two years previous, but I seriously doubt there have been major renovation made in the duration between then and now.” He slid his fingers across the screen to a new, enhanced view of the blueprints and said, “The Choi family is known for their decadence. They’re certainly front runners in terms of power and money, and naturally they’re prolific enough to reflect that in their home. That’s very good for us.”

“Why?” Ryeowook spoke up.

“It means several things,” Yunho answered for him. “Like there’s more of a chance of us moving undetected, and if this party is supposed to be as big as Changmin says it’s going to be, they’ll have to hire an outside security force for it. That means a lot of faces passing through those doors, and with any luck, ours will blend in perfectly.”

“This is the main ballroom,” Changmin said, directing their attention to one large room on the screen. “This is where the gala will take place. I’ll arrive shortly before the gala begins and it’s doubtful that I’ll see Siwon for much time before that. Yunho, don’t give me that look. He won’t have time to do to me whatever you’re imagining.” 

Leeteuk found himself frowning. “Something you want to share with the rest of us?”

Changmin shook his head. “As I said, this is the ballroom. The gala will be held here, and most of the guests will be here. I estimate there’ll be between two hundred and three hundred guests. Now, pay attention all of you, this is the hallway that you have to take down to where the vault entrance is. Attached to the vault is a viewing room, and that’s the real prize here.”

“Because,” Leeteuk guessed, “you think Choi is going to have the Eye on display.”

“If he has it like you claim he does,” Changmin agreed. “I know Siwon’s type well. This is his gala. Next to his wedding, this will be the most important gathering of his life. This is the gala not just for his birthday, but his ascension to his father’s position. He’ll want to show off to everyone his wealth, not just his power, and that Eye represents both. To have the real deal … he won’t be able to resist. So for at least a portion of the gala, it’ll be located here.”

Yunho cleared his throat. “If it isn’t, we’re scrapping this entire thing. If, for whatever reason, Choi decides to keep the Eye locked away in the vault, we don’t have the time, preparation or manpower to take it.”

In total agreement, Leeteuk said, “If the Eye isn’t present and accounted for, there’s absolutely no compromise on this. No distraction in the world is going to cover up the size of the blast we’d have to create to get into that vault, and cracking it isn’t an option either.”

Changmin held up two fingers, looking a little sweaty and out of breath already. Leeteuk didn’t think it boded well for Changmin, considering he was merely sitting now. In two days he’d have to be on his feet.

“I managed to talk Siwon into allowing two companions down onto the planet under the guise of them being my personal security. This gives us some wiggle room, to say the least. Yunho, I assume you’ll be one of the warm bodies accompanying me?”

Yunho gave Changmin an impossible look that Leeteuk almost laughed from.

“Of course,” Yunho said. “And Mi’s coming with me.”

The explosion that Leeteuk had half expected from Kyuyhun wasn’t there. Instead he sunk down a bit in his seat, arms crossed over his chest in a way that radiated anger, but also the indication that he’d known the decision was coming. It was awfully mature of him, but also hinted that maybe Kyuhyun was merely biding his time. There was room for protest yet.

Leeteuk agreed with the Captain’s choice. Leeteuk desperately wanted to be down there watching his Captain’s back, but he understood the choice of having him remain on the ship instead. Next to Yunho, Leeteuk knew her the best. And he, in Yunho’s absence, could keep her going. 

“One of you will have to remain with me at all times,” Changmin said, bringing Leeteuk back to the conversation at hand. “What I mean, of course, is that one of you will hover in the corner of the room threateningly, not get distracted by the food or the opulence or anything other than the fact that Siwon can smell trouble for a mile away. Now, for the second of you, we can excuse your absence as space sickness or something dismissible.”

Zhou Mi asked, “What will the second of us be doing?”

“Stealing a couple of the security uniforms,” Yunho said. “Those uniforms will allow either of us to move through the estate without anyone looking twice, and we will need that invisibility. Mi, I was thinking I’d stay with Changmin initially, because I need you to check out the security on the viewing room.”

Leeteuk told Zhou Mi who was listening carefully, “We know what kind of security system he’s using to protect his vault, and probably even the viewing room, and we know that’s not going to be a problem with your … ah … select skills. But we need eyes on the patrol patterns, where the checkpoints are, how many men are in the area at any given time and things of that sort.”

Zhou Mi, who Leeteuk had originally assumed was a mere bank security guard before taking on with them, had turned out to be quite savvy in terms of hacking. He wasn’t prolific in any way, but he was far better than the average kid who tried his hand at hacking. Leeteuk had never gotten around to asking him about how he’d managed such a skill, but he was never more thankful for it.

“You want me to take down the security system?” Zhuomi asked.

Yunho raised an eyebrow. “You could take it down completely?”

Zhou Mi considered for a second, then said, “Most likely.”

Appreciatively, the Captain said, “That’s good to know, but no, we don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves. I want you to make us invisible to the cameras, but nothing else, and even that shouldn’t be obvious. If Choi’s security team notices anything wonky about the system they could shut us down in a second, and I don’t think I need to remind you all that this can’t be a smash and grab job.”

“Now,” Leeteuk said, hefting up on the table the object he’d brought with him to the meeting, “I think it should be pretty obvious that we can’t simply waltz out the front door with the Eye, no matter how stealthy we do it. We need a alternate way to move the Eye from the Choi estate, and recover it later. That’s what this is for.”

Onew’s head cocked. “Pandora’s box.”

“What?” Kyuhyun questioned.

“They call it Pandora’s box,” Onew said. “It’s … it would take too long to explain Pandora’s box, but what you need to know is that it’s practically indestructible and it’s meant for keepings things safe from unexpected accidents. Short of getting launched into a collapsing star, this thing will remain structurally sound enough to protect whatever is inside. Leeteuk, this didn’t come cheap.”

“No,” Leeteuk nodded. “It was damn expensive.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Ryeowook asked.

“When we make the snatch,” Yunho said, “after gassing the surrounding area, ghosting ourselves on the cameras, and covering our bases, the Eye will go in here. And this box? It’s going in the one place no one will look for it, or think it out of place when covered with the other things that’ll be with it.”

“Which is?” Changmin asked, curiosity written across his blanched face.

“The waste disposal,” Yunho said with a grin. “We’re going to dump the most priceless gem this side of the ‘verse in the waste disposal. It’ll get sorted for incineration, which doesn’t happen until the end of the week, and no one but us will have a clue what’s in it.”

Leeteuk interjected for the rest of them, “The box will broadcast its location to us and we’ll pick it up without attracting any attention.”

“I’m impressed,” Kyuhyun remarked. “This is a pretty sound plan for getting in and out without causing a commotion.” His eyes narrowed and Leeteuk felt a spike of fear. There was a reason Kyuyhun could be feared all too easily. “But what happens if it doesn’t stay quiet? What happens if you drag my brand new husband into a firefight?”

The truth was, the truth that Leeteuk didn’t think Yunho would tell the crew, if they got caught in a firefight, there wasn’t much that could be done. Choi’s security forces would run them into the ground all too easily, and that was if they were lucky. If they were stubborn enough to last long enough to get Alliance soldiers deployed to their position, it would be even worse. Being discovered wasn’t an option in the least bit.

“Kyuhyun,” Yunho eased out, “the plan is for everything to say quiet. If it does, and Mi and I will be doing everything in our power to keep it that way, we’ll wait the gala out while the Eye goes down the garbage disposal. But if things do get loud, that’s why you’re my pilot, and that’s why Onew, you’re my engineer. If we’re coming in hot, it’s all up to you two.”

Leeteuk didn’t think, if things went bad, they’d even make it to the ship. But Kyuyhun didn’t need to know that.

“If things go south,” Changmin said, surprising them all, “leave me behind.”

“What?” Yunho demanded. “You want me to do what?”

“Leave me behind,” Changmin enunciated slowly. “I’m a legitimately contracted Companion. And for all intents and purposes, I will have been exactly where I was expected to be the whole night--on Choi Siwon’s arm. There won’t be any fingers pointed at me, and I guarantee you, I’ll be the last thing Siwon is thinking about at the moment. I’ll find a way to meet up with you later on, or contract you at the least. But if it comes down to your life being in danger because you’ve been discovered, I want you and Mi to get out of there.”

“I don’t like it,” Yunho said, but his tone said he accepted the logic of it.

“But we need to talk about how we’re going to get Changmin out of there if everything goes accoding to plan,” Ryeowook spoke up. “He’s not going to …”

“No,” Yunho said sharply, leaving no room for any interpretation. “The most Changmin is going to have to do is stand there and smile and look very handsome. He isn’t doing anything else.”

Changmin gave a weak smile. “I certainly don’t think I’m up to much, Ryeowook.”

“Still,” Zhou Mi said, “We do need a valid reason for Changmin to be able to withdraw from the gala.”

Feeing as if Changmin was his own little brother, Leeteuk said, “You don’t exactly look at your best, Changmin. What if you simply let Choi get a good look at you underneath all the makeup I assume you’re going to put on?”

Changmin gave an unattractive snort. “You’re thinking too much of him if you even consider for a moment that he’ll care about my health.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Kyuhyun asked. “Changmin can’t just leave without a reason, but if we leave him there the Captain is going to kill this Choi guy for trying something on Changmin, and then we’re all going to go to a penal colony.”

Eyes narrowing in thought, Changmin suggested, “I might have something. All of you are familiar with the good night kiss?”

“Not intimately,” Leeteuk said dryly, but everyone had heard of a good night kiss. It was a topical concoction, typically transferred through a kiss, that rendered the recipient either temporary paralyzed or unconscious. It was used in theft for the most part, and by attractive prostitutes who weren’t interested in a fair sale. “But yes. You want to give Choi the good night kiss?”

Changmin made a face, “I’ll certainly have to kiss Siwon throughout the night, and it’s not something I’m looking forward to, but giving him a good night kiss wouldn’t be advisable. The properties contained in it are illegal within the Guild, easily traceable and would only arise suspicion. But I’m certainly not the first Companion to need a quick way away from an unwanted patron. A friend of mine has been working on something. It can still be applied through a kiss, which Choi will accepted all too freely, and the effects will work in our favor.”

“And they are?” Onew asked.

Changmin looked all too pleased as he said, “My friend assures me that within minutes of being kissed with this mixture, Siwon will start to experience nausea, followed by uncomfortable cramping, a sudden and frantic need to use the bathroom, and all the other signs of onset food poisoning. The ingredients are all natural and shouldn’t set off an red flags if Siwon starts to get suspicious about his own health declining in tandem with his prized treasure going missing at the same time.”

In disbelief Kyuhyun asked, “You’re going to kiss Choi with something on your lips that gives him the runs?”

Leeteuk threw his head back and laughed deeply as the others joined in.

“Essentially,” Changmin said a bit helplessly. “I know, it sounds horrible, but it’s all I can think that’ll make Siwon send me away extremely fast, and still look like mere bad timing on his part.”

“Horrible?” Kyuhyun demanded through his laughter, nearly needing Zhou Mi to support him. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard of in my life! Can you get me some of this? I really need some of this.”

“You do not need any of that,” Zhuomi said quickly, and Leeteuk was pretty sure he saw fear flash across Zhou Mi’s face.

When the laughter died down, Yunho said, “I like this. It gives us an excuse to leave quickly.”

“Wait,” Kyuhyun said sharply, looking between Leeteuk and Yunho. “I know we’re going for absolute secrecy here, and it’s supposed to be an in and out job without anyone ever knowing until we’re three systems away, but what if it does go bad? How are you going to get guns on that planet?”

“That is a problem,” Yunho admitted. 

Hands gripping the table for support, Changmin said, “You can bet that all of the guns belonging to the security force that Siwon hires will be palm coded. And Yunho, both you and Leeteuk will be checked thoroughly before being let through.”

“But you won’t,” Leeteuk pondered.

“I’m a Companion.” Realization was dawning on Changmin’s face. “I’m a Companion, and they know that we don’t carry weapons. They won’t check me or my belongings, and it’ll be considered a disrespectful action if they even try. Siwon won’t allow something like that, especially considering I’ve never had so much as a blemish on my record before this.”

Yunho gave him a quizzical look. “You say that like this is going to earn you some kind of mark.”

“The point is,” Leeteuk said, cutting between them, “that Changmin is our way to smuggle our pistols in. Of course getting to them afterwards is going to be challenging.”

Changmin shook his head. “You don’t know what I’ll be wearing, but trust me, I’ll be able to hide a few pistols underneath my layers. I’ll pass them off to you the first chance I get.”

Leeteuk really hoped that he wasn’t getting his hopes up for nothing, but he was starting to feel good about their upcoming job. Certainly the hardest part was going to be sitting up on the ship, monitoring his Captain’s frequency for any kind of SOS, but for the moment, everything seemed to be falling into place.

“And now,” Yunho announced, “for the plat de résistance.”

“The what?” Ryeowook asked, eyebrows high.

“The cherry on the top,” Leeteuk told him. “Essentially.”

Yunho pressed on, “If, and that’s a huge if, the gas we’re going to smuggle in doesn’t do the trick, and someone sees that the Eye is missing before Changmin has a chance to reassign Choi’s new residence to the bathroom, I’ve got that covered as well.”

“How?” Leeteuk asked before he could help himself.

“This,” Yunho said, setting a pouch on the table in front of them and pulling from it a blood red gem.

The Eye.

Only obviously it wasn’t, because credible information placed the Eye with Siwon. No, this was clearly a replica, but it was perfect enough that no one would ever know the difference without truly giving it a look over.

“Is that what it really looks like?” Onew asked, craning for a better look. “Really?”

“Really?” the Captain confirmed.

“How?” Kyuhyun demanded.

That was the better question, and now Leeteuk was wondering the same thing.

“That’s not important,” Yunho said.

Leeteuk watched as a subtle but visible look passed between Yunho and Changmin. They knew something. They were hiding something. It certainly wasn’t uncommon for siblings as close as they were to have such secrets. But this was clearly something about the Eye, and Leeteuk didn’t like the idea of Changmin knowing something that he didn’t. Changmin, for as beloved as he was, wasn’t the Captain’s first mate. Changmin wasn’t the one Yunho was about to entrust his ship with. 

“I agree,” Changmin said so flawlessly that if Leeteuk hadn’t caught the look between brothers, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. “The important part is that we have a perfect replica of it. Which means a switch can be made and that buys Yunho and Leeteuk some extra time.”

A bit of silence washed over them, and Leeteuk found it almost suffocating. Even the accusations from Kyuhyun had been better.

“We’re really doing this?” Onew asked in awe. “We’re going to go get the Eye? The Eye that’s going to lead us to the vault?”

“We’re doing it,” Leeteuk told him. “This is it.”

Yunho gathered the replica Eye back up and said, “We arrive at New Haven in less than two days. This is it. The final push. Everyone needs to be ready.”

Leeteuk clamored up out of his seat the second it was clear the meeting was over. The air in the room ha gone stale with so many people in the same space and the doors shut. He left Yunho and Zhou Mi to hash over the more detailed points to the roles they’d play with Changmin down on the planet, and instead rushed to catch up with Onew who was all but running back to the safety of his engine room.

“I need to talk to you later on,” Leeteuk told him.

“About what?” Onew asked.

Leeteuk didn’t think he could very well come out and say that Heechul was offering to look into the design on the bullet, not where anyone could overhear them, but he did manage quietly, “The bullet. I might have found a way to get a little more information out of it.”

Onew nearly skidded to a stop. “Yeah?”

Leeteuk nodded. “I have a friend and he--”

Leeteuk’s careful words were completely cut off by Yunho’s frantic calls for someone to get Jaejoong. 

“Go!” Leeteuk told Onew, almost pushing at him no matter whoever else might be going for the doctor. And Leeteuk himself ran for the Captain.

“What happened?” he demanded the second he was back in the dinning area.

It was a terrifying sight to see, probably too much like what it had looked like when Changmin had been initially shot. And all Leeteuk could see was Changmin curled up on the cold floor, gasping for air that seemed to be in short supply for him.

“He fell!” Yunho snapped, then he was bending over Changmin, promising him, “Jaejoong’s on his way, Minnie. I promise, you’re okay.”

Moving to Yunho’s side, Leeteuk was startled by the heat he could feel coming off Changmin. “He’s got a fever, Yunho.”

Yunho glanced over at Leeteuk with wild eyes. “I knew he was a little warm earlier, but he promised me he was just worked up. He didn’t look that bad and I let it pass. What the hell was I thinking?”

“I’m okay,” Changmin promised as he sucked in short breaths, eyes unfocused and body shivering. “Yunho. I swear.”

“You’re not okay!” Yunho snapped.

“Yunho!”

Less than a minuet Jaejoong was barreling through the door towards the brothers, and Leeteuk took a step back to let him work.

“Tell me what happened,” Jaejoong asked quickly but calmly, taking Changmin’s temperature immediately. The look on his face was poor enough to tell Leeteuk that he was more than just concerned about Changmin’s state. No, this went far beyond mere worry.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yunho asked, his fingers stroking through Changmin’s hair in a way that was probably more soothing for him than Changmin.

Jaejoong flashed a penlight into each of Changmin’s eyes and called out, “Leeteuk. I need you and Mi to help me move Changmin to the infirmary immediately. His temperature is dangerously high. We have to bring it down right now.”

Leeteuk dashed forward, Zhou Mi at his side. Together they lifted Changmin easily enough and then they were running for the infirmary, Yunho hot on their heels.

Between them Changmin twisted a bit, still swearing his was fine while the heat from his skin burned into Leeteuk’s.

He most certainly wasn’t fine.

And there was no way he was going to be fine enough to play his part in two days time.

The plan was ruined. It was absolutely ruined and there was no salvaging it.


	13. Thirteen: Yoochun

It was all too clear that the time for secrets had passed, and for any peace of mind, Yoochun had to be explicitly clear with Jaejoong about the only thing he’d ever hidden from him.

It just hurt terribly that in all likelihood Jaejoong was going to be absolutely furious with him.

Jaejoong might even hate him.

Knocking his knuckles against the metal frame of the infirmary’s doors, Yoochun poked his head in and asked quietly, “Jaejoong? Can I speak with you?”

Curled up on the bed inside the infirmary, and looking just as bad as he had when he’d been shot, was Changmin. This time there was a lot less blood, but he was pale, sweaty, and clearly sleeping uncomfortably. Yoochun hadn’t been there when Changmin had collapsed, but he’d heard about the incident from Onew.

Next to Jaejoong, Yoochun could say for certain that he was the closest with Onew. He really liked the other man’s personality, and how quiet he could be. Yoochun wasn’t always one for words like Jaejoong was, and he wasn’t nearly as outgoing as the rest of the crew seemed to be. But Onew was different. Yoochun knew if he went to visit Onew in the bowels of the ship, they could sit in perfect silence for hours and find solace in the hum underneath their feet.

Onew was also deliberate with his words, and Yoochun found him well spoken. They could talk about anything, from safe subjects like planets visited, to the very unsafe topic of the Alliance.

There was also probably something to be said for how attractive Onew was, with his soft smiles, caring eyes and gentle touches. There was such pain in Onew, the kind that was evident from a system away, but it in no way impacted the shine that Onew had to him. For a grease monkey, Onew was more like an angel. 

Yoochun was most certainly not smitten.

Well, maybe a little, but he wasn’t inconsiderate. He’d heard the rumblings from time to time. Onew hadn’t always been unattached like he was now. He’d had a partner, who’d been a member of the crew, and something terrible had happened. It was the cause of the sadness in Onew, and it wasn’t the kind of sadness that could be cured by Yoochun’s affections. 

Loss of the heart required time to heal. 

Regardless of his feelings, Yoochun’s days were now spent almost always in Onew’s company. They were easy around each other, fast friends, and they each held secrets that the other respected. Onew never asked him much, and so Yoochun returned the favor.

“Of course,” Jaejoong said from across the infirmary. He crossed to Yoochun and said, “Changmin’s sleeping with a sedative right now. I very much doubt our voices will wake him.”

Yoochun pulled the doors closed behind him and leaned back against them. “Where’s the Captain?” It hardly seemed in his nature to be far from his brother’s side. 

“Yunho?” Jaejoong asked, his face lighting just in the slightest at the Captain’s mention. “He was here about fifteen minutes ago. You just missed him. I think he had to speak with Leeteuk about something, but if you wait long enough, he’s bound to show back up. I told him I’m taking the best care of Changmin possible, but he worries. He’s a worrier.”

“Nah,” Yoochun brushed off. “I don’t want to talk to him. I just wondered.” Yoochun gave a nod towards Changmin. “What’s wrong with him?”

Wearily, Jaejoong said, “I thought his recovery was going fine. He was showing none of the typical signs of infection. Or maybe I’m just less of an effective doctor than I first imagined, because Yunho told me he thought Changmin was warm yesterday, just before I discharged him to his cabin. That’s something I should have caught.”

Yoochun rolled his eyes. “You’re not perfect, Jaejoong. No matter how amazing of a doctor you are, you’re still human. You can’t catch everything, and it doesn’t mean you’re ineffective.”

Through colorless lips, Jaejoong said, “Changmin’s developed an infection. I can treat it, but his fever is still very high. I’m doing my best to bring it down, but it hasn’t been easy. Suffice to say, Changmin’s recovery has been set back several weeks at the least, and months at the most. When he’s coherent enough to digest that, I don’t think he’s going be very happy.”

“Probably not,” Yoochun chuckled.

“So,” Jaejoong posed, wringing his hands a bit in a nervous tick, “you wanted to talk?”

Yoochun couldn’t tell if Jaejoong was nervous about Changmin or their talk. Yoochun wondered if his own anxiety was bleeding over to Jaejoong who’d always been a touch empathetic. It was an attribute that had made him an even more exceptional doctor, but at the moment it was currently working against him. 

“I have to tell you something,” Yoochun said somberly, wondering if this was the last moment Jaejoong would truly consider them to be friends. Best friends. 

“Okay,” Jaejoong eased out. “Something important?”

Yoochun could only nod.

Jaejoong winced. “Something we should sit down for?”

There was only one bed in the infirmary, and Changmin was currently using it. There was also only one stool in the corner, which was currently cluttered with data pads, files and odds and ends. There was no place but the floor, and with a nod they slid down to it. Jaejoong crossed his legs and waited patiently while Yoochun thought about how they’d used to be build forts out of sheets and blankets when they were little. They’d whisper to each other between giggles about all the things they were going to do when they were older, none of which they actually ended up managing.

“I,” Yoochun started, throat feeling like it was threatening to close up on him. “I never meant to go any further than the Moon Hub.”

The confusion was immediate on Jaejoong’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The frigid temperature of the ground was something Yoochun couldn’t get enough of as he felt himself to start to heat from his anxiousness. 

“I probably shouldn’t have ever left Helios with you. It was stupid and impulsive in ways you can’t begin to understand. I should have put you on this ship and gone right back to hes house. I didn’t like the Captain. I didn’t like Yunho. But I knew he wouldn’t hurt you. And I thought he’d see you off to some place where you’d be safe.”

“Yoochun,” Jaejoong said gingerly, “I know freedom is as difficult a concept for you to grasp as me, but you aren’t my father’s property anymore. Or at least we’re going to try not to be. You going back wouldn’t have been a good idea. You going back wouldn’t have given you the freedom you have now.”

“But I’m not meant for freedom,” Yoochun said shakily. 

“Everyone is,” Jaejoong bit out.

Yoochun’s head thanked back against the doors. “Jaejoong you don’t understand. My orders were … I’m not who you think I am.”

The paleness of Jaejoong’s lips seemed to be spreading to the rest of his face. “Of course I do,” he said, his voice shaking with growing uncertainty. “You’re my best friend. You’re Yoochun. You are practically my brother, though my father would have an absolute aneurysm to hear me say that. What else is there to know?”

“Everything,” Yoochun said desperately. 

Changmin shifted slightly in his sleep, causing an awkward silence to fall over them.

When everything was still again, Jaejoong said, his voice at a whisper, “You told me about your mother, and how she died trying to give you a better life. You told me about your brothers and sisters you think you’ll never see again. And about your father’s debts, which led to your contact. Yoochun …”

“I lied to you,” Yoochun said, closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see the betrayal on Jaejoong’s face. “Everything I ever told you about my family, my history, and how I came to be indebted to your family, was a lie. It was a cover. It was story made up to get me through the front door.”

When Yoochun did finally open his eyes, mostly because the silence unbearable, there was anger instead of sadness on Jaejoong’s face.

“Why?” Jaejoong demanded, hands clenching around his knees. “Why would you lie to me about everything? I told you … I told you things I can’t believe I had the strength to say out loud--things that I only thought in my head. I shared everything with you, and protected you from my father. I took beatings for you, Yoochun. I--” Jaejoong cut off abruptly when he realized his voice was growing thin.”

“I’m going to tell you everything,” Yoochun swore.

“You were seven when your contract was placed in my father’s hands. Seven. Explain to me how a seven year old could lie so well for so long?”

Feeling burdened, Yoochun said, “Because the fear was real. I was just a child, Jaejoong. And the contract was real, too. I knew what that meant, and I also understood what my mother told me before we were parted. She said that if I was found out, or if I spoke to the wrong person, a lot of people would die, including her. Fear can do a lot to keep a mouth shut. Even in a child.” Yoochun smothered down the building guilt. 

“For what reason?”

“Was I placed in your house?”

Jaejoong gave a sharp nod. “And by who? Your mother? Why? How could a mother just give up her child like that?”

It was a truth he’d kept hidden for so long it was hard to speak about, even to Jaejoong who was the only person Yoochun absolutely trusted. 

With a frown, Yoochun told him, “I’m part of a intricately crafted, and very complicated organization that’s main purpose is to protect Alliance citizens against the Alliance. We do everything from exposing Alliance secrets, to stopping the Alliance sanctioned slave trade of who they deem to be enemies of the state--political prisoners, to even to freeing children from indentured servitude. We’re … what’s left of the resistance, Jaejoong-- the Browncoats. There are thousands of us, placed all over the Core, in the most wealthy and influential homes, gathering information, subverting the system that believes we don’t exist, and waiting until the time is right to strike. Parents willing do this, place their children into these households, in order to fulfill a greater purpose. They don’t do it because they want to, Jaejoong. They do it because the best way to destroy a system of oppression is from the inside out, and destroying the Alliance is worth that kind of sacrifice.”

“That’s barbaric,” Jaejoong hissed. “To willingly sell your own children into slavery? What kind of mother is that?”

Yoochun felt the bile in his stomach rise up. “I didn’t ask to be abandoned. But I understood from the start what I was a part of. I understood that if I didn’t play my part, just like every other person in my position, I could jeopardize them all. We’ve only survived this long because of our anonymity. And because we’re so good at appearing unassuming.”

“That’s what you’ve been doing?” Jaejoong asked with a cracking voice. “Using me to root through my father’s office when he’s out on business?”

“It hasn’t been like that,” Yoochun denied, more aggressively than he himself expected. “I never used you.”

“Yes you did,” Jaejoong argued, pressing a palm to his forehead. “You took advantage of the fact that I was naïve and truly believed you were my friend. You knew that if I thought you were my confidant, I’d give you all the leeway in the world, and even protect you from my father. Is that … is that why you were placed so young in my home? Were those your orders? To befriend me? To sucker me?”

The way Jaejoong was looking at him with such distain … it made Yoochun’s stomach flop over on itself.

“You were always my real friend,” he shot back. “No matter what I could or couldn’t tell you, our friendship has always been real. You have always been my best friend, and my orders were to riffle through your father’s things at every chance I got, but I didn’t need to sucker you to do that. I didn’t need to be your friend to do my job. I’m your friend because I want to be.”

“Our friendship is based on a lie,” Jaejoong said, climbing to his feet with some ferocity. “You are a lie.” Realization was flashing across Jaejoong’s face and he choked out in a sloppy way, “Oh, gods, it all makes sense now. This is why you know all these things you couldn’t possibly know. This is why you’re so comfortable in space.”

Yoochun pondered, “Didn’t you stop and wonder how I was able to even leave Helios? I’m supposed to have a tracker in my head, aren’t I? Jaejoong, that thing was disabled years ago, not that your father had any idea. And whenever he went off world, I did too, to check in with an informant, to follow up with someone else in the organization, or just to … just to get away for a second and breathe. I had several contacts on Helios that I reported directly to.”

Jaejoong breathed out, “And you played me for a fool the entire time.”

Yoochun followed him up to his own feet. “If our friendship had been a lie, I wouldn’t have stopped you from nose diving out of your window the second you found out your father was going to sell you off like a side of beef. If our friendship was a lie I wouldn’t have gotten on this ship with you, and stayed with you, and tried to return every bit of protection that you ever showed me growing up.”

“But you wanted to go back,” Jaejoong accused. “You planned to.”

There was no lying about that. Yoochun had to nod. He supposed there was no lying about anything anymore. 

“Because as much as you are my best friend, and for as much as I love you and would do anything for you, the resistance is bigger than either of us. The work I do for them, Jaejoong, it saves lives. It protects people from the reach of the Alliance. And we’re working on something big right now. We’re on the verge of exposing something that might crack the Alliance for the first time since its inception. I’m talking bigger than what happened on Miranda.”

“Are you going back?” Jaejoong asked, an unreadable tone in his voice.

He should have been trying. He should have been planning to offload at the first chance and make his way back to Helios to meet up with his resistance contacts.

Yoochun said, “I’m not. I’m … going against everything that’s been ingrained into me from the start. I’m staying here, with you, my best friend, and I’m ignoring the Alliance and the resistance. Unless … unless you don’t want me here. If you tell me to go, I’ll go. I want you to be happy. I’ve always just wanted you to be happy, and I won’t stay if it upsets you.”

The anger was fading from Jaejoong face, which was good, but it was only being replaced by the sadness Yoochun had expected. And expecting it didn’t soften the blow on the least bit.

“You swear our friendship wasn’t a lie? That you weren’t using me?”

Yoochun moved quickly to him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m choosing you over the resistance, Jaejoong. What does that tell you?”

When Jaejoong hugged him back, Yoochun nearly took them back down in relief, his knees going weak.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you every second of every day,” Yoochun swore. “I knew you could keep my secrets, and that was good enough for me, but I was worried about everyone else’s secrets, too.”

Jaejoong asked him, “Why are you telling me this now?”

Yoochun gave Jaejoong a tentative smile. “I want you to know that I would have told you everything eventually. I wouldn’t have lied to you forever. But I also didn’t want to burden you with this right now. I’ve just gone and gotten backed into a corner right now, and I didn’t want anyone else to be the one to tell you about me.”

“Huh?” Jaejoong questioned.

Yoochun reminded, “They ran your background check. That’s how Leeteuk and the Captain knew about the bounty out on you. And while I know for a fact they haven’t run mine yet, they’re bound to eventually. And when they do, it’ll come up that the Alliance has taken control of the bounty out on me. I’ve been made, I’m sure. The Alliance knows I’m connected to the rumblings of something they’re trying to feel out, and if they get their hands on me, they’ll try to torture the truth out of me.”

Looking utterly shaken, Jaejoong wondered, “You won’t let them, will you?”

“No,” Yoochun said simply, and he knew Jaejoong understood. “My point is, the value of my bounty just shot through the roof, which means my history is about to be exposed to anyone who goes looking for it. I couldn’t stand the idea of you hearing about this from someone else.”

Jaejoong mused, “So going back isn’t an option for you anymore.”

“Nope. Just going forward.”

Jaejoong let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I ruined everything for you with my impulsiveness. You wouldn’t have had to abandon your cause if I hadn’t decided to run away.”

“It was my idea to run away, if you’ll recall,” Yoochun said, and this time his smile felt a little more firm on his face. “I knew what I was doing then. I mean, I knew before that moment, that I’d do anything to keep you safe. Even compromise my mission.”

“Because were best friends,” Jaejoong eased out.

Yoochun had to correct, “Because we’re more like brothers.”

Yoochun was still grinning a bit stupidly when Yunho did return, as expected.

It seemed to be a trend on the ship for everyone to look overworked and in a desperate need of a full night’s sleep. The Captain was no exception, stalking forwards a little unevenly to Changmin’s side as he demanded, “Is there any change?”

“No,” Jaejoong said immediately, shaking his head. “He’s the same as he was the last time you were here … twenty minutes ago.”

The Captain didn’t look especially put out by the tone in Jaejoong’s voice, but Yoochun thought that was simply because it was Jaejoong doing the talking, and the Captain was quickly falling head over heels in love with him.

“His fever is still too high?” Yunho questioned.

Jaejoong put a comforting hand on his back. “I’m giving chemical compresses and standard medication a chance to do their job right now, and if that doesn’t work, then we’ll move onto something a little less conventional. If it comes to it, Changmin won’t be the first patient of mine I’ve put in an ice bath.”

“Okay,” Yunho breathed out, his hand reaching for Changmin’s wrist. “I know you’re doing your best. I just want him to be okay.”

“He will be,” Jaejong said, and when he spoke, Yoochun believed him. That was, in Yoochun’s opinion, the mark of a great doctor. Anyone who could offer real comfort in a terrible situation was exceptional.

Yoochun had always known, even right from the start, Jaejoong was exceptional.

“I take it Changmin isn’t going to make it prearranged date then?” Yunho asked dryly.

“No,” Jaejoong said slowly, and his eyes flickered over to Yoochun’s. obviously neither of them knew what the odd inflection in the CVptain’s voice meant. “I suggest you send a message ahead indicating that Changmin won’t be able to fulfill his obligations, even if it was only going to be standing for a few hours.”

Yoochun couldn’t help interjecting, “Which we don’t buy for a second, by the way.”

Jaejoong hadn’t expected that, but in true form it only took him a second to add, “We don’t, Yunho.” Yoochun didn’t think Jaejoong had a clue what they were talking about, but he was a good friend, and he’d always had Yoochun’s back. 

“It’s nothing,” the Captain said tiredly, giving nothing way. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Yoochun’s eyes narrowed. “I think we aren’t just going to New Haven so Changmin can be some high society douchebag’s arm ornament for a few hours. I think you have something planned. There’s been a lot of hush-hush going on with the crew over the past day. And a secret meeting that neither Jaejoong, not myself were invited to.”

The Captain looked downright uncomfortable and Yoochun was more than thrilled that he’d picked the perfect moment to go for a late night snack, only to stumble across the crew all gathered together, just enough visible of them through the tiny port window on the door to indicate they were going over blueprints.

The pout on Jaejoong’s face was quite spectacular. “Aren’t we a part of the crew now, Yunho? If you’re planning a job of some kind, we deserve to be in on it to.”

“Jaejoong,” Yunho said with a twisted expression. “I don’t think--”

“We want in,” Yoochun snapped out. “We don’t deserve this secrecy. We want this. Neither one of us has a home to go back to now, and if we’re going to be members of this crew, it means you trust us. Even with sensitive information. So either let us know what’s going on, or rethink considering us part of the crew.”

The Captain gave them each a long look, then said finally, “We were planning a heist. And Changmin’s role was immeasurably important.”

By the time the Captain had explained everything, from Choi Siwon to the Eye, Yoochun wasn’t sure whether to be thoroughly impressed, or very fearful for the sanity of their Captain. 

“So you’re scrapping it?” Jaejoong asked, looking over to Changmin’s sleeping form. “You can’t do it without him?”

The Captain shook his head. “Without Changmin it’s little more than a smash and grab job,, which isn’t worth the risk.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaejoong said, “but he absolutely can’t leave this ship right now, especially to go down to the planet and play distraction.”

“I know, and I wouldn’t risk him anyway,” Yunho said, his fingers curling securely around Changmin’s wrist. Yoochun imagined he was searching for the steady beat of his brother’s pulse. “He can’t do it.”

Yoochun therefore thought it was absolutely hilarious not more than eight hours later when Changmin, who was kicking up so much fuss in his fevered state that even Yoochun could hear him from outside the infirmary, declared at a yell, “I can still do it!”

“A disagreement, I take it,” Yoochun asked Ryeowook who was standing near him. They’d happen to simply be passing by the same area, but now they were witnesses to Changmin throwing at fit of epic proportions, Jaejoong trying to calm him down, Yunho shouting right back, and Kyuhyun watching everything like a Ping-Pong match. 

“Changmin’s always been very stubborn,” Ryeowook said softly. “And he knows how important this job was to not only the Captain, but all of us. He’s probably more upset at himself than anything else.”

Yoochun gave a silent nod. 

“Changmin!” Yunho protested. “You can’t even get out of bed! Your fever is barely out of the danger zone right now. Stop acting like a little brat. The job is gone.”

“You can’t make that decision for me!”

“Watch me!” Yunho shouted right back. “It’s happening right now.”

Yoochun inched his way closer to the open door of the infirmary to see Jaejoong jet between the two brothers. Yunho was red in the fact, like the argument had been going on much longer than Yoochun had been aware of. And for a change Changmin wasn’t white as the sheets around him, but he was panting harshly, seemingly struggling to even sit up.

Kyuhyun, who’d never looked so young and so vulnerable, had wide eyes and nervous hands.

“I can’t allow you to go down on the planet for any reason outside of an emergency,” Jaejoong told Changmin in his most authoritative voice. “Your fever is high. Your wound is infected. You are most likely dizzy, nauseated and achy. Changmin, I understand you’re upset, but you can’t fight this.”

“I am fine,” Changmin all but growled out. “I’m not letting some stupid fever stop me from playing my part.”

Yunho opened his mouth to argue something back when Jaejoong cut in smoothly to say, “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. How does that sound?”

“Deal?” Changmin questioned, his shoulders visible shaking as he gasped for air.

“A deal.” Jaejoong nodded. “If you can walk all the way from your bed, to the doors where Yoochun is eavesdropping at, by yourself and without stumbling, I’ll give you medical permission.”

Yoochun’s head snuck through the doors and he retorted, “I’m not eavesdropping back here. I just happened to be passing by when a bomb dropped in here.” Behind him Ryeowook was slinking off, not wanting to be caught being part of the eavesdropping group.

By the time Yoochun looked over the Changmin he’d thrown off his sheets and had his feet down, hanging inches from the floor. He was poised to put his weight down on them and Yoochun could only think of how much of a mistake it was going to be. There was no way he was going to make it to the door without falling on his face.

“Changmin!” Kyuhyun called out in a scared away when the Companion was tipping to the side. The hadn’t even managed his feet before he was listing violently, eyes slipping closed.

“Changmin,” Yunho said softly, catching him and helping him lay back on the bed. “Minnie, I know how much you want to do this. I want to let you do it badly, also. But it isn’t worth your health, and you can even stand right now. Face it, the job is scrapped.”

Yoochun watched Changmin’s eyes flutter, his fever making his words hazy. “I need to help, Yunho. You can’t do this without a Companion.”

“Just rest,” Jaejoong said, lifting Changmin’s sheets back on him. “The Captain is very resourceful, Changmin. I’m sure he’ll come up with something else.”

Kyuhyun darted past them to take Changmin’s hand, his fingers stroking the skin at the back of it. “It’s fine, Min. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s not that big of a deal. You’re way more important.”

“Liar,” Changmin wheezed out.

Out of desperation, Kyuhyun turned to the Captain and asked, “There’s no other plan? There’s no backup?”

Yunho shook his head. “We needed Changmin to get us down on the planet. It’s guarded tighter than a penal colony. It’s too late to try and put something else together. We arrive tomorrow.”

“What if you get another Companion?” Yoochun asked with a shrug, feeling all eyes turn to him, even Changmin’s. “This is Core space. There’s got to be at least one who’s available at the last second. You just need a Companion for a front, right?”

“It’s not that simple,” Yunho argued, fingers in his hair in a frustrated way. “And I don’t think you can just swap Companion out like that.”

Seeming just a bit more coherent from the bed, Changmin cleared his throat and said, “It’s possible, but the client has to be in agreement. Siwon would have to approve the switch.”

Yoochun questioned, “So he’d just have to think the new Companion was prettier than the last, essentially?” 

There was no mistaking Changmin’s beauty, which was masculine and incredibly striking, but there were also far more beautiful people in the ‘verse. For the right amount of credits, almost anyone would be willing to be paraded around a party and admired. It probably wouldn’t take much.

Changmin shook his head and said, struggling to get the words out, “There’d have to be a background check, too. Siwon would … vet the new Companion with even more scrutiny.”

Again, Yoochun shrugged. “That’s not a problem for me.”

“For you?” Yunho questioned. 

Jaejoong agreed, “Actually, Yoochun is an exceptionally skilled forger. Most indentured servants are trained in more domestic trades, but my father always expected his property to be worth the investment. Yoochun has spent years producing false paperwork for my father. The kind that the Alliance couldn’t tell the difference between. I doubt if the Alliance couldn’t, that neither would Siwon be able to.”

Yoochun could say confidently, “Between now and this party I could easily create anything from House records, to medical documents. Everything that you’d need I can make.”

“We’re not seriously considering this,” Yunho said, his eyes locking on each of them, including Yoochun. It felt good to be useful for once, even if it was only the possibility of it.

“But what if we are?” Kyuhyun asked, the smallest glint of hope back in his eyes.

Changmin pressed back fully against his pillows and took a rattling breath that sounded a little more wet than it should have been. “It’s still not that simple,” he said. 

Kyuhyun didn’t seem to care, and pressed on, “What else would we need to pass someone off as a Companion?”

“Other than that sort of thing being highly illegal?” Yunho broke in. 

Yoochun snorted, “You’re thinking about robbing one of the richest and most powerful families in the Core, and you’re worried about the thirty year sentence the Alliance will slap down on you for that sort of thing?”

“Siwon has a type,” Changmin said. He reached over to catch Kyuhyun’s fingers and squeezed weakly. “He wouldn’t accept just anyone. He likes a particular type.”

“Such as?” Jaejoong prompted. 

“Young,” Changmin said through a heaving chest. “As young as possible, and almost always male, though not exclusively.”

“Young,” the Captain said, a dark look across his face. “How young are we talking, Minnie?”

Looking more than a little confused, Changmin told them, “Guild law protects children. But some Companions are ready by sixteen. Most debut around seventeen or eighteen. Siwon would prefer the lower end of the spectrum.” He turned his head to cough heavy and painfully, and Yoochun could see the worry continuing to creep on Jaejoong’s face over his condition.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Yunho said, placing his hand on Changmin’s forehead soothingly. “This guy is sounding more and more like a predator.”

Changmin continued, “And pretty. They have to be pretty. The appearance of a Companion is worth more to Siwon than anything else. He has to show people that he can buy the most beautiful Companion the Houses have to offer. But there’s something even more than that.”

“Which is?” Yunho asked, his fingers carding through Changmin’s hair. “A deal breaker?”

Changmin gave a weak nod. “He likes the Companions who can sing. I can guarantee you he would have wanted me to sing something for his guests. He likes his Companions to sing to him, and they have to be exceptional at it.”

Yoochun supposed that was a deal breaker. Getting someone young and pretty wasn’t a problem. But a skilled singer?

Kyuhyun posed, “If we had someone who was all that, and Yoochun forged the right paperwork, you think we could get someone else in down there?”

“Maybe,” Changmin said, starting to drop off. His body was going lax as he said, “If we were lucky, maybe.”

Jaejoong appeared at Changmin’s side, a sedative in hand. He injected it quickly and told them all, “I don’t want any visitors outside of family for the next day. And don’t give me the speech about how the crew is family. By family I mean Yunho only. Changmin can’t keep getting worked up like this. He has to rest.”

Yunho said, “I’ll keep him calm and--”

Kyuhyun raised himself up to his full height, which was quite a lot for someone of his age, and said loudly, “I can do it.”

Yunho gave him an odd look. “Do what?”

The kind of steely resolve on Kyuyhun’s face was impressive to Yoochun who could see what was already coming. 

“I’m the youngest of us all here,” Kyuhyun relayed quickly. “And I’m nineteen, but I could pass for younger, especially if Min does my makeup and puts me in the right clothes. Plus, I know all about Companion customs. I know the tea ceremony. I know the way they’re supposed to walk and talk and act like they’re better than everyone else. I know it all, Changmin’s shown it all to me, and I’m pretty good looking too.”

“No,” Yunho said immediately, fear in his voice. “You aren’t going anywhere near that bastard.”

Kyuhyun continued, “Changmin’s bigger than me, but I should be able to fit into at least some of his clothes, and he can coach me on the most important things to say to Siwon. Not to mention, I don’t crack under pressure. I’m not helpless, either.”

“No,” Yunho repeated, reaching across the bed to grab Kyuhyun’s arm in what looked like a painful grip. “You’re not listening to me. It’s too risky. You’re too--”

“Perfect,” Kyuhyun insisted.

Softly, Jaejoong asked, “What about the most important requirement?”

Evenly, Yunho said, “Changmin has a beautiful voice, but Kyuhyun’s is otherworldly.”

“You can sing?” Yoochun asked him with surprise. 

Kyuhyun pulled his arm away roughly from the Captain’s hold. “Stop letting your feelings get involved here, Captain. I’m the perfect person for the job, since we can’t have Chanmgin. No one else fits the bill like I do, and no one else here can pose as thoroughly as a Companion as me. I can do this and you know it.”

“You’re too young for something so dangerous,” Yunho said. “I didn’t even feel good putting Changmin in that situation.”

“That’s the point,” Kyuhyun said, growing even more aggravated. “I’m young. I could probably even pass for sixteen, and that would really make Siwon happy.”

“So you want me to put you on a planet with a monster who’s going to expect certain things from you?”

Kyuhyun arched an eyebrow. “Changmin wasn’t going to have to do any of that, and I’m not going to, either. Sorry if you thought otherwise, Captain, but I’m a married man.”

“Kyuhyun,” the Captain said, and it was the strain in his voice that was more telling than anything else. He was nearly begging for Kyuhyun not to be so convincing. 

“Yunho,” Kyuhyun returned, “I can do this. Can you just believe in me? I know how to act to play the part. I’m young and pretty. I can sing. And if something goes wrong, I can handle myself in a firefight, which is more than Changmin probably could have done. Let me do this.”

The indecision was etched deep into Yunho’s features, and eventually he said, “I have to talk to Leeteuk and Mi about this. They have be in agreement.”

“Mi won’t,” Kyuhyun said, face draining. “He’ll let his concern for me get in the way! He won’t see the bigger picture.”

“Maybe,” the Captain agreed, “but he’s an integral part of this plan as well. If he isn’t in agreement, we can’t do this without him. You all asked me to be okay with putting my family in danger, and now he has to be okay with the same thing. He agrees or this is over.”

“Then let me talk to him first,” Kyuhyun said. 

The Captain gave a sharp nod and Kyuhyun was all but flying from the room.

“Are you really going to let him do it?” Jaejoong asked in a soft voice. “If the others agree?”

Yunho lifted himself wearily to sit on the edge of Changmin’s bed. “He’s not wrong in what he said. I know he can do it. He is young. He’s young and attractive and his voice is exceptional. He’s a natural born actor and he could fool the pants off Siwon without having to even try. But putting him in that kind of danger?”

“He’s sort of like your little brother, too?” Jaejoong stated, more than asked. 

Yunho nodded. “I know his older sister. She made me swear on my life that I would keep him fed, safe and happy, before she would even agree to put the pistol down.”

Yoochun laughed loudly. “She what?”

Yunho admitted, “She wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of some hotshot, upstart kid who thought he was ready to captain a ship, taking her little brother off world. She was willing to shoot me to stop me, if necessary.”

“She must be a real badass,” Yoochun said with awe.

Yunho chuckled, “She’s a violinist.”

This time it was Jaejoong who laughed, then tipped his head on Yunho’s shoulder for a second. It was such an intimate moment that Yoochun felt uncomfortable being there. “Well,” Jaejoong said, “no matter what happens, I don’t think you can control the ‘verse so much that such a promise is possible. But if you really are so concerned with keeping Kyuhyun happy, maybe you should help him convince the others to let him do this. If he thinks he can, you have to trust him. He wouldn’t risk his lie unnecessarily. Or at the least he wouldn’t seem so certain of it.”

“I suppose not,” Yunho agreed slowly. “Keep looking after Changmin for me while I go find Leeteuk and talk Mi down from probably starting a ship wide mutiny against me?”

“You know I will,” Jaejoong swore.

Yoochun rolled his eyes. “Do you two need me to leave the room so you can kiss now?”

“Hardly,” Jaejoong said boldly, then leaned over to peck the Captain on his lips. 

The Captain shuffled off after Kyuhyun, his feet dragging audibly, and Yoochun asked Jaejoong, “Do you honestly think something like that is going to work?”

“I don’t know.” Jaejoong gave Changmin a look. “But he’s not going anywhere, and without him or someone playing his part, Yunho won’t be able to get onto the planet. So do I think it’s going to work? I’m not sure. But I think they’re going to try, which means you should get started on those forgeries right away. We’re a day out from New Haven.”

“Got it.” Yoochun gave a mock salute and headed to the doorway.

If this did end up going down, Yoochun had every bit of faith that it would be spectacular. One way or another, he and Jaejoong would be getting their first taste of what being a part of the crew meant. Yoochun just hoped it didn’t lead to either of them regretting their decision to stay on.


	14. Fourteen: Kyuhyun

“Well?” Kyuhyun asked, smoothing down his clothing a little self consciously. “Tell me the truth. How do I look?”

To Kyuhyun, Changmin’s clothing had always looked terribly complex, full of folds and creases, tucks and ties, and all kinds of intricate wraps. Changmin’s clothing, when he had to dress to impress, was like a maze, and Kyuhyun felt lost in it right now.

Maybe he just felt lost in general. He still wasn’t sure if he’d lost his mind completely, volunteering to take Changmin’s place and essentially put himself right in the lion’s den. He only knew that there was nothing more important to the Captain than the elusive Eye he’d been chasing down the better part of his life, and Kyuhyun couldn’t let it slip through his fingers so easily.

Part of Kyuhyun had half expected Choi Siwon to see through their plan, or refuse the swap.

But here he was, wrapped up in Changmin’s silks, his makeup done by Ryeowook who was a man of even more talents than Kyuhyun had expected, waiting for approval from the Captain and Zhou Mi.

“You certainly fit he part,” the Captain whistled out.

Zhou Mi said evenly, if not a little airily, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Guixian.”

If Kyuhyun was honest with himself, he only really cared what Zhou Mi thought of how he looked.

Before showing the two of them his new look Kyuhyun had caught sight of himself in the nearby mirror. The pinching of Changmin’s clothing on him really did wonders to make it look like he had curves, pulling in at a his waist and then flaring out around his hips. And the gold and red of the silk fell against his skin like a gentle river, creating the tiniest of ripples whenever he moved, which was especially pleasing to see. It was easy to see how the single outfit cost more than Kyuhyun usually made in a year.

Additionally, right before Changmin had gone back to sleep, his body currently being ravaged by a second wave of fever that Jaejoong was still fighting to bring down, he’d instructed Ryeowook how to do his makeup. It was the most Kyuhyun had ever worn in his life, and far more than Changmin had put on him over the past few days in a jokingly way. Instead of faint, neutral colors, Kyuhyun’s face felt heavy with the dark liner around his eyes, the blush on his cheeks and the foundation that smoothed out the tiniest of imperfections of his skin.

“The most important part,” the Captain said, circling Kyuhyun, “is that all of this makes you look younger than you are. Looks that way from where I’m standing.”

It was probably because the eyeliner made his eyes look bigger, and the clothing hid his growing frame easily enough. He could pass for sixteen now, and judging by how fast Siwon had accepted him as a replacement, that certainly interested him. 

“He does,” Zhou Mi said, and Kyuhyun could still see all the rumblings of anger that had been prevalent in Zhou Mi earlier when he’d looked like he was going to punch a hole in the ship over the switch.

Kyuhyun had never seen him so mad. It had honestly been a little scary, hearing Zhou Mi raise his voice to a yell at the Captain, kick over a nearby crate and accuse them of putting their own selfish needs before Kyuhyun’s welfare.

Kyuhyun certainly didn’t feel like anyone was taking advantage of him, and it wasn’t as if the Captain had been the one to suggest the switch.

“Are you ready for this?” the Captain asked, putting his hands on Kyuyhun’s shoulders and holding him at the distance. “Are you sure you want to do this? Mi and I will do everything in our power to protect you down on the planet, but it’s impossible to know what might happen.”

Kyuhyun squared his shoulders. “I can do this.”

Zhou Mi swore, “All you have to do is pretend to be interested in whatever Choi is saying. Just stay in the ballroom. Don’t go anywhere we can’t follow. And believe the Captain when he says we won’t let anything happen to you.”

Taking a deep breath, Kyuhyun said, “This is going to work out, Mi. Don’t look so worried.”

The Captain ducked out of the room, headed for the bridge and Zhou Mi said, “How can I not be, Guixian? You are always beautiful to me, but you are exceptionally so right now.” 

His fingers came up to brush along Kyuhyun’s jaw, and knees feeling a bit weak in the proverbial sense, Kyuhyun was still as in love with Zhou Mi now as the day they met. There was something really lovely anyway about the way Zhou Mi had swept in, pulling the man off of Kyuhyun during the street brawl they’d met during. How could it not have been love at first sight, when Zhou Mi had offered a hand down to him, asked him in his deep, handsome voice if he was okay, and then offered to help even the odds.

“I find it impossible not to watch you light up a room,” Zhou Mi continued, “and now Choi will get that privilege. He is a predator, a monster and a killer. And by now you must have heard about Changmin’s fears concerning him. You’re asking me to put you in a room with him. You’re asking me to draw his attention to you.”

Kyuhyun crossed his arms, the extra material at his sleeves making it a little difficult, but not impossible. “I know we’re trying to make me look like I’m sixteen, but I’m not actually that.”

“I’d worry if you were thirty.”

“My point is,” Kyuhyun stressed out, “I’m not a child. We’re not putting a child in this situation. I’m an adult, Mi. I can handle anything Choi throws at me, especially if I have you down there to watch my back.”

Zhou Mi leaned his forehead down against Kyuhyun’s. “I’m not ready to watch him touch you. Not with the intent he will have.”

Kyuhyun leaned forward, pressing his lips against Zhou Mi’s. It had to be a quick kiss, the kind that they rarely shared, because there wasn’t time for more. And if Kyuhyun dared for more, his clothing would surely be rumpled and his makeup destroyed before they were in proper orbit above New Haven. 

“I love you,” Zhou Mi said, one of his big hands at Kyuhyun’s waist. “Very much.”

The Captain’s voice echoed back to them, “We’re on final approach! ETA five minutes.”

“I love you too,” Kyuhyun said back, sneaking in another kiss. “Now stop making me look debauched.”

Zhou Mi gave him an unexpected leer. “Changmin’s clothing doesn’t just make you look beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Kyuhyun hooked an arm around the back of Zhou Mi’s neck, leaning up against the taller man. “What else?”

Zhou Mi was, without much variation, exceptionally gentle. And he’d always been that way with Kyuhyun, almost afraid to touch him too roughly or even too suddenly. But all of that was gone now, Zhou Mi’s powerful arms gathering Kyuhyu up without warning, hitching them together in a provocative way.

“If I had my way,” Zhou Mi promised him, “I’d lay you down on our bed right now and peel every single layer from your body. This clothing, it makes you perfect for the taking Kyuhyun, and I’m but a simple man with frighteningly short willpower when it comes to you.”

Ignoring everything else, Kyuhyun kissed him deeper, feeling the heat in his belly grow into more than just need. “You always say the best things,” Kyuhyun teased, pressing kisses all along Zhou Mi’s jaw. 

In an almost scary show of strength, Kyuhyun felt himself being pushed back against the nearby wall, Zhou Mi’s hands at his waist and lifting him up a second later. And they were kissing and kissing and kissing until oxygen was a serious matter, but then Kyuhyun was only gasping for air for a second before they were locked together again, his hands pulling at Zhou Mi’s shirt instinctively.

Behind them, a voice cleared, and Ryeowook said, “If I have to do your makeup again, Kyuhyun, I’m going to be very upset.”

Zhou Mi let out a sigh and lowered Kyuhyun’s feet down to the floor. “Later,” his lips promised against Kyuhyun’s skin.

Kyuhyun needed a few extra seconds to get his feet under him. But he was soon fixing his clothing, touching up his hair and relaying to Ryeowook, “Thank you for your timing, which continues to be amazing.”

Ryeowook gave a short chuckle. “You’re welcome. Now stop making out like you’re both teenagers.”

Rolling his eyes, Kyuhyun kissed the corner of Zhou Mi’s mouth and said, “Excuse me dear. I have a former friend to drag towards the airlock.”

Zhou Mi laughed loudly and at the very least, Kyuhyun was glad he’d lightened the mood just a bit. 

Ten minutes later Kyuhyun, Zhou Mi and Yunho took the ship’s shuttle down the New Haven. Kyuhyun had been on plenty of Core planets before, even Persephone which was considered to the be the jewel of the Alliance. But nothing really prepared him for New Haven, which was lush and green with forests for miles to see, and grand homes built like fortresses, sprinkled in between. The sky was a clear, perfectly blue, and when he stepped outside of the shuttle at the checkpoint, the oxygen was so pure it was almost hard to breathe. 

Security, as expected, was tight, but already playing his role, Kyuhyun leveled a bored and almost irate look at the head of security manning the checkpoint and said, “I think you’ll find that Choi Siwon is expecting me. And he isn’t the sort of man to be kept waiting.” 

Hours earlier Changmin had said to him, “Kyu, confidence is everything. People will believe almost anything, if you can first sell it to yourself. Be confident. Don’t say anything you don’t want them to believe.”

The head of security retorted lazily, “Mister Choi is expecting a great deal of people.”

“Is he now?” Kyuhyun asked. To his left he could see his information being processed. “I’ll be sure to let him know how hospitable you’ve been when I see him later tonight.”

Tension was knotted deep into Kyuhyun’s back as he waited to be processed. Yoochun had claimed to be a forget by nature, and a good one at that. But he’d been cutting it close to the deadline with producing the necessary paperwork to get them planet side. And now was when they played the waiting game. 

The man running their data went sheer white and his eyes jerked up to Kyuhyun with a mixture of awe and respect.

Behind him, Kyuhyun swore he could feel Yunho and Zhou Mi relax just slightly.

“Apologizes,” the man stammered out, thrusting a data screen at the captain of the security force 

The same screen that was most certainly relaying that Kyuhyun was a Companion and Siwon’s personal guest. “We had no idea you would be coming in so soon! You’re at least an hour ahead of the projected time table!”

The captain of the force paled as well, realizing his mistake and called immediately for an escort team. “Companion!”

Kyuhyun would have given anything to burst out laughing in that moment, watching men scrambling around to take his luggage--the precious trunks that were supposed to contain clothing and necessary items, but in fact had their weapons and supplies.

This was power, Kyuhyun realized. He’d never had a thirst for it before, and he still didn’t, but it was something he could instantly recognize as desirable. Having people fall over themselves to help him, revering him, and doing it all because of a simple title …

In that moment Kyuhyun respected Changmin even more. It was clear how easily it was for someone to become addicted to the power that came with being a Companion. To the best of Kyuhyun’s knowledge, the Companion’s Guild was a deeply spiritual and philosophical organization, but even that didn’t seem a match for the feeling of euphoria linked to having so much power. Not that Changmin ever showed it for a second. Changmin was humble and kind and all the things that power didn’t usually lend itself to. 

“This way,” the captain of the security force directed, gesturing for Kyuhyun to follow him. “If you’ll follow me we’ll take you directly to your transport. It’s about a ninety second trip to the estate, but if you need anything, please let me know. I’d be very, very honored to get it for you.”

Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to draw you away from the other guests that are expected shortly. He’s expecting a lot of them, isn’t that what you said?”

The man looked quite nauseas and Kyuhyun forced himself not to press the issue, no matter how much fun it was to terrorize the man.

Kyuhyun had to take slow, even steps as he boarded the ground transport from the docking bay his shuttle had landed at. Changmin’s feet were about a size bigger than his own, and while he’d been able to pad the delicate flats he was currently wearing, he looked a bit odd walking if he didn’t take his time. Plus, Changmin had always walked slow, no matter if he was planet side or on the ship. It seemed to be a Companion thing, and Kyuhyun was very aware that blowing their cover over anything, could mean their deaths. 

“But none as important as you!” the man told Kyuhyun quickly. “Master Choi has made it explicitly clear to everyone tonight that you are to be a great priority for us, be it keeping you safe or comfortable.”

“Hopefully both,” Zhou Mi cut in.

Kyuhyun said quickly, “I take it Mister Choi is aware of my two escorts?”

The man nodded, closing the door to the transport behind the three of them, and taking a step back for the launch. “We’ve been appraised that you’ve brought two of your own security, in light of some unmentionable troubles that Companions have been experiencing as of late. They won’t be a problem, Companion.”

“Good,” Kyuhyun said, seating himself.

The head of the checkpoint security took another step back and said, “Please remain seated for the duration of the ride. You’ll be met quickly at the estate and shown to your room so you can rest. Master Choi is extremely excited to make your acquaintance.”

Then they were off, shooting through a whirlwind of green towards something that would either make them or completely destroy them.

The sound of the transport’s engine was enough to mask their words from the driver, and as Kyuhyun let out a deep breath at the first hurdle passed, he heard Yunho mumble at him, “Relax. You’re doing fine.”

“You’re doing great,” Zhou Mi corrected. 

Kyuhyun only wished he felt half as confident as they felt in him.

Ninety seconds later they were met by a short, mousey looking woman who was the first not to trip over themselves at the notion that Kyuhyun was a Companion. She took Kyuhyun directly into the huge estate, through a winding labyrinth of hallways and stairwells, and delivered him to a magnificently decorated guest suite. 

“I expect you’ll want to freshen up,” the woman said, already heading to the door without so much as a look back. “Mister Siwon will meet you in an hour for tea.”

Kyuhyun startled, and he knew he wasn’t the only one. “Tea?” Gods, had he stuttered?

She gave him a pointed look, and said in a way that reflected how much she knew of Choi Siwon’s business, “Mister Siwon was expecting Companion Shim, with whom he is acquainted with.”

“Of course,” Kyuhyun said as quickly and casually as he could manage. “I agreed to come in his stead when he was temporarily indisposed so quickly. One could even call it, should the desire exist, a favor for a friend.”

The woman’s head dipped. “Perhaps. But the matter stands, Mister Siwon prefers to know his Companions well beforehand. Therefore he’s arranged, in despite of his incredibly busy schedule, to have tea with you in order to make your acquaintance. I take it this is amenable to you.”

Kyuhyun strolled the room, and despite his nerves clawing at him in a panic, he responded, “Please pass on that I am very much looking forward to meeting him, and that I enjoy milk with my tea.”

That was a Companion thing to say, right? Changmin particularly enjoyed spicy teas, but Kyuhyun was a coffee drinker, if the kind they had on the ship could even be counted as real coffee.

The second the woman, who was most likely Siwon’s assistant of some kind, was gone, Kyuhyun launched himself face first on the bed and let out a quiet, strangled sound.

“Are you okay?” Zhou Mi asked, at his side in a second, pulling him up from attempting to suffocate himself.

“Tea?” Kyuhyun questioned, looking from Zhou Mi to Yunho. “I have to have tea with him?”

Yunho gave a heavy sigh. “In which no doubt he’ll try to pry out of you something about Changmin, or test your credibility as a Companion. Minnie said this guy can smell a rat a system away, and I think we’re about to test that theory.”

“I don’t even like tea,” Kyuhyun wailed, falling back on the bed, his legs tangling up in the blankets.

Zhou Mi laid next to him, crowding in so close that for a half second Kyuhyun could believe that they were back in their bunk, and it was just the two of them. 

“Stick as close to the truth as possible,” Zhou Mi coached him. “When you lie, thread as much truth in as you can manage. The best lies are the ones based in truth, and it’ll help you remember what you say, if he tries to go back and trip you up.”

The room was pleasantly cool, especially in light of the warm planet New Haven was, but all the nervousness crashing through Kyuhyun was making him feel extremely over heated. He pulled harshly on the high collar of his outfit, popping seams loudly as he stated, “No one said anything about me having to prove I’m a Companion. Not with some kind of inquisition.”

Across the room Yunho was kneeling by the trunk they’d brought with them. It had been delivered to the room just before them, and the relieved look on the Captain’s face said everything was still hidden safely inside.

“We don’t actually know he suspects anything,” Yunho said, sounding like he was trying to offer comfort. “It’s possible, but not definitive. Do what Mi says, Kyu. Stick to the truth where you can. Maybe Choi really does just want to talk with you. Maybe he wants to feel you out. Maybe he just really wants some tea. It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to prove anything. Your paperwork looks legitimate, Changmin vouched for you, and you know an awful lot about the Compaion’s Guild anyway.”

Kyuhyun took a deep breath. “What if he tries something?’

The hard look and promise of death on Zhou Mi’s face was intercepted by Yunho saying, “I have no doubt he’ll be expecting something of you before all of this is said and done, but for all intents and purposes, Choi Siwon does not seem the type to touch desert before the actual meal is finished.”

Zhou Mi rounded on Yunho angrily. “And what if he does? What if Kyuhyun is put in a dangerous situation?”

Yunho froze in front of the trunk, then with a beat more of thought, he straightened up and said decisively, “We’ll be there. We won’t let him go anywhere without us. And if Choi tries anything with Kyuhyun, we’ll end this.”

“Just like that?” Zhou Mi inquired, eyes narrowed. 

“Just like that,” Yunho echoed, actually looking like he meant it, which was some peace of mind for Kyuhyun. “If Kyu is in danger, we’ll pull the plug. I swear it.”

Feeling a little stronger, Kyuhyun struggled off the high bed and through his overly layered clothing to stand. “Alright,” he declared, heading for the attached bathroom. “I guess I better get ready then.”

Tea, almost fifty-five minutes later exactly, was taken in a brightly lit greenhouse. It was an enclosed room, just off to the side of the estate, with glass walls and glass windows, boasting a magnitude of wild flowers, growing herbs, plants and even butterflies. Kyuhyun had to work extra hard as he fought not to let it show on his face how impressed he was. It was humid in the greenhouse, but not horribly so, and it was a strong contrast from the coldness of space Kyuhyun was used to.

“Well,” Siwon said, strolling up to Kyuhyun who’d been seated at a petite, charming table at the center of the greenhouse, a cup of tea already placed in front of him, “your picture does not do you justice.”

Kyuhyun nearly fumbled his cup and saucer as he got his first look of Choi Siwon.

“Neither does yours,” Kyuhyun replied, and it wasn’t a lie.

Choi Siwon was … well, Changmin had warned Kyuhyun that Siwon was exceptionally good looking, and also that he was charismatic and charming. He’d said that no matter what Siwon appeared to be, he was much more, and extremely dangerous. That wasn’t something Kyuhyun was going to forget.

However, in terms of pure aesthetics, Siwon was quite possibly the most handsome man Kyuhyun had ever seen. He was tall, dark and handsome, in the most classic way, with strong features, a bright smile and not even the barest hint that he was likely to blame for the death of a Companion not more than two years ago.

Siwon sat directly across from Kyuhyun, reaching immediately for the pot of steaming hot water, and prepared himself a cup of tea without saying a single additional word. Kyuhyun passed the time by focusing on Siwon’s long fingers as they stirred in sugar, and the knowledge that only a couple dozen feet away, both Zhou Mi and Yunho were keeping watch. They were just far enough away to give the illusion of privacy, but were within reach if necessary.

“I have to admit,” Siwon said, savoring the smell of his tea. “I was very much looking forward to seeing Changmin again. We’re old friends.”

Kyuhyun wanted to snort into his tea. That seemed unlikely. But instead he said, “Changmin contacted me as a possible replacement because he values your company. He imparted with me the absolutely need for me to preserve his reputation. He might have a soft spot for you.”

Siwon chuckled, fingers on the table. “That’s risky, for a Companion to state.”

Kyuhyun forced himself to swallow down a mouthful of biter tea. “Haven’t you heard? His retirement is on the horizon. I imagine he can say whatever he’d like at the moment.”

“I thought you took milk with your tea,” Siwon stated, giving him an indeterminable stare.

“Milk?” Kyuhyun looked down at the dark liquid in his cup and it was as if his brain had stopped working with how long it took him to remember that he’d told the woman earlier that he took milk with his tea. Forcing a soft laugh, Kyuhyun said, “Of course. You’ll have to forgive me. Nerves can’t be bred completely out of someone, no matter how the Guild tries.”

“Nerves?” Siwon asked, sipping his own tea. “What would you have to be nervous about?”

With fingers that he prayed wouldn’t start shaking, Kyuhyun reached for the pot of milk. “Before this,” he said trying to think of the details of the background Yoochun had created for him, “I’d taken very few clients. I am young, after all. Likewise, I doubt I would be human if I weren’t a touch nervous about meeting someone new, no matter the assurances Changmin gave me of your character.”

Milk in the tea actually helped. Kyuhyun didn’t think it tasted fabulous, but it helped. And so did the sugar he added afterwards. It as easier to choke down the next time he took a sip, trying to avoid the way Siwon was staring at him.

“You’re young,” the man said eventually. “Your file said sixteen? I wasn’t aware the Guild allowed Companions to complete their training at such a young age.”

Something was prickling across Kyuhyun’s skin, and he most certainly did not like the direction the conversation was going.

“I was exceptionally young when I was taken in by the Guild House on Helios. And yes, it is uncommon for a Companion to debut so early, but not unheard of.”

Siwon reached out across the table, his fingers brushing over Kyuhyun’s as he said, “Then you must be exceptional, exceeding your beauty.”

The pressure on Kyuhyun’s fingers was enough to make him want to wrench his hand away, but instead fully aware that everything could be resting upon this moment, he pushed the digits more fully into Siwon’s grasp and said, “I suppose that will be for you to discover.”

It must have been the right thing to say. It had to be, despite the way Siwon let go of his hand. Because there was a pleased look on the man’s face.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Siwon said eventually. “Now, about tonight.”

“Your birthday gala,” Kyuhyun said knowingly. 

“It’s more posturing than anything else,” Siwon waved off, reaching for a nearby cake snack and offering half to Kyuhyun. “Simple minded fools with far too much influence will be in attendance, no doubt to ply me with their unwanted praise in an attempt to foster business deals. But you, Companion Kyuhyun, you won’t have to deal with any of that. Instead it is my greatest hope that you’ll grace us all with a performance. Am I correct in stating you specialty, just as Changmin’s, is your voice?”

Kyuhyun’s heart was beating so hard he was certain Siwon could see it through his chest, and also as he lied, “It would be my pleasure to sing for you what ever you might prefer to hear.”

The teacake that Siwon had offered him tasted like ash in Kyuhyun’s mouth.

“Something heartfelt,” Siwon decided. “I want to feel it in my soul, when you sing. I can’t imagine there’s any other reason for singing. Do you agree?”

At the very least, for Kyuhyun this was a subject that he felt much safer discussing. 

“I agree,” Kyuhyun said, trying his tea once more. It seemed to be getting better, he more he acclimated to it. “I’ve always felt that way. Music’s purpose is to lighten the heart, and make you feel something in your soul. It should be a beautiful experience for the audience, and emotionally overwhelming for the performer. If it isn’t, then I feel as if the purpose is lost.”

“And you feel it in your soul, I can tell. You’re the real thing.”

“The real thing?”

Siwon reached for his hand again, this time more suddenly, and Kyuhyun startled. Behind them Kyuhyun heard the shuffle of feet and it must have been Zhou Mi or Yunho or both of them ready to spring into action.

“I hardly think you need protection while you’re here,” Siwon said, not letting go of Kyuhyun’s hand, but his eyes cutting narrowly to a dangerous look. “I hope you don’t think you’re in danger here. There’s certainly nothing that could have given you that impression.”

Kyuhyun forced a laugh and an eye roll. “Of course not. But there has been a rise in crime particularly aimed at Companions as of late, and these are Changmin’s men, anyway. I brought them with me to satisfy him. I certainly don’t think you’d allow any danger to befall a guest in your home.” 

“No,” Siwon agreed curtly. 

Kyuhyun requested dismissively, “Then ignore them. I do my best to. I can’t dismiss them without insulting Changmin, but they’re not exactly a bother, either. Gods know they don’t speak much, which is a blessing.”

Slowly, and in what must have been a deliberate move, Siwon raised the back of Kyuhyun’s hand and pressed a kiss to the skin.

It was, without doubt, the creepiest thing Kyuhyun had endured. But it was probably nothing compared to the stroke Zhou Mi was likely having. If the made it back to the ship in once piece, gods willing, Kyuhyun foresaw a lot of groveling that would have to be done by several people, to improve Zhou Mi’s disposition.

“Now,” Siwon said, setting the napkin from his lap to the side so he could stand, “It would be a pleasure to bask here in your company for the rest of the night. However, there is a gala planned to begin in a few short hours, and I believe both of us have preparations to make.”

Kyuhyun stood on his own shaky legs. “I very much look forward to later tonight.”

It was remarkable what adrenaline and fear could do, in Kyuhyun’s opinion. Because until the moment Siwon was gone, and their tea was lukewarm at best on the table, Kyuhyun was able to hold himself together. He was able to maintain the façade, and not for a second looking an iota of how scared he actually was of the person Siwon was.

Then he didn’t have to, because Siwon was gone, no one was looking, and Zhou Mi was holding him up with a tight hug. 

“You’re okay,” he heard Zhou Mi whisper in his ear, and there was another warm, familiar hand on his back that had to be Yunho’s. 

Kyuhyun let himself cling tightly to Zhou Mi for just a moment more, then he got his feet back under him, took a few steadying breaths, and said quietly, “That is the scariest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

Yunho, who ran a comforting hand across the back of Kyuhyun’s head, said, “You did well, Kyu. He was testing you. But I think we’ve dodged a bullet.”

Kyuhyun shook his head, relaying to them, “It’s something in his eyes. You guys weren’t close enough, but I’m telling you there’s something in his eyes that isn’t right.”

“But you’re okay now,” Zhou Mi said quickly, palming the side of Kyuhyun’s face. “Look at me. You know we wouldn’t have let him hurt you, right?”

Kyuhyun could barely register the words, and pushed on, “It’s so unsettling, you know? He looks so handsome. And he seems nice. But there’s this edge to him … this unspoken bite. I look at him and I … I know he killed that other Companion. I know he’ll kill me, if I give him a reason. And I know he’ll do it all without having to think twice. That man is terrifying.”

“Come on,” Yunho said, giving Kyuhyun a small tug. “Let’s go back to your room. You can rest for a while and then we’ll get you ready for tonight. Changmin made sure we’d be able to get you dressed in what he picked out.”

“You can’t be serious,” Zhou Mi said, pulling Kyuhyun away from Yunho as if he were the enemy. “We can’t force him to go through with this anymore. Look at him!”

“We’re not forcing,” Yunho snapped back.

Kyuhyun rubbed his fingers across his forehead where a headache was building. “I said I was scared of the guy, not that I was backing out of the plan. I mean, I guess part of me wants to, but I can see the bigger picture. And I’m stronger than all of you give me credit for. I can still do this. Just stop fighting. We have to work together.”

“Guixian,” Zhou Mi said kindly, “no one will think less of you if you don’t want to do this anymore.”

With a sigh, Yunho added, “You can back out now, if you want. The party hasn’t even started.”

“No,” Kyuhyun declared, “I’m good. I swear.” And he sort of was. For the most part, at least. 

They made the trek back to his room in pure silence, and once they were tucked safely away, Kyuhyun made a beeline for the bathroom and the spacious tub in the center of the room. Living on a ship meant awkward moments of body odor and personal hygiene that was a fight to keep up some days. Kyuhyun and the others did their best, but there were no huge tubs to take baths in, or that much water for a bath either. With hours before the gala, this was something Kyuhyun had been planning to do from the first moment he’d seen it.

And a few minutes later, sinking down into the steaming hot water, Kyuhyun was sure he knew what the afterlife would entail. He dumped in a few bath salts that immediately made the room smell like jasmine and lavender and thought just for one second that if everything went to hell in the coming hours, at least he could die happy.

A solid knock sounded at the door and then Zhou Mi peaked his head in.

“If you’re going to ask me one more time if I’m okay, I might throw some of my bathwater on you.” Kyuhyun hoped he sounded serious. 

“I won’t ask,” Zhou Mi said, entering the bathroom and then shutting the door solidly behind him. He made his way to the tub and knelt down next to it. “But I am worried. Choi really shook you up. Don’t deny that.”

Kyuhyun pulled his knees to his chest, water rippling around him. “I mean it when I say that is the scariest man I’ve ever seen in my life. But I also believe that you’ll have eyes on me tonight. You won’t let him take me off anywhere secluded, and if it comes down to it, I can defend myself. I’m not helpless.”

“I never thought you were,” Zhou Mi said, leaning over the rim of the tub to steal a kiss. “But we made vows to each other. We made a commitment. I protect you and you protect me. We watch out for each other. Correct?’

Kyuhyun nodded, then leaned his chin onto the edge. “I just want you to know that I’m going to do this. You don’t want to be distracted from what you have to do, wondering if I’m going to blow our cover or get into trouble. Later tonight Yunho will be with me. He’ll be in the ballroom the whole time, and you need to be cracking the security system. You do your part and I’ll do mine and we’ll get away with it.”

Zhou Mi’s fingers dragged across the top of the water. “Okay.”

“Good.” Kyuhyun gave him a sly look. “You want to get in here with me?”

“Do I ever,” Zhou Mi laughed. “But we’ll really be late for the party then.”

Kyuhyun gave him a playful slashed and for the next twenty minutes, Kyuhyun got to enjoy his bath in peace.

The clothing that Changmin had decided for him to wear was infinitely more complex than what Kyuhyun had worn to arrive in. The gold trim was a standard, the mark of the House on Helios, but instead of red that made him look like a phoenix, Kyuhyun had Zhou Mi and Yunho carefully help him dress in a pristine white. Zhou Mi said he looked like an angel and Yunho seemed to agree. Kyuhyun just felt the pre jitters that came with knowing he was soon going to have roughly three hundred eyes on him. 

A quick look in the mirror showed his recently reapplied makeup was perfect, making his brown eyes look even more bold, and the blush giving some color to his skin.

He looked perfect. He looked ready. He just need to feel that way now.

Yunho told him one final time, “When we get there Zhou Mi will complain of a stomach ache. You give him the go ahead to retire to the bathroom, where no one will bother him, and that’s when he’ll make his move. The second you excuse him, you’ll have to keep Choi distracted and entertained for the entire rest of the time. Still think you can handle it?”

“I can,” Kyuhyun promised. “I won’t let you guys down.”

The ballroom was magnificent. With vaulted ceilings, chandeliers and a twenty piece orchestra, it was something out of a movie. Kyuhyun couldn’t help spinning a bit around, wondering if he’d ever see anything so beautiful again in his life, or be somewhere as opulent. He even couldn’t wait to get onto the dance floor. Surprisingly Onew, who’d come from a fairly well off family, had given him a crash course in the dancing he’d be expected to do, and Kyuhyun was excited to put his knowledge to the test. 

Kyuhyun cut through the crowd like butter, feeling powerful as they parted for him, some whispering about who he was, others mere staring. He tried not to pay them much attention. Siwon. He was looking for Siwon. Once he found the man, and gained his attention, he wouldn’t let anything take it away. He’d be glued to Siwon’s side the entire night, even if it meant he had to flirt, or let Siwon paw at him. 

Finally, after two circuits of the room, and fifteen minutes, Kyuhyun spotted the tall figure of Siwon. His back was to Kyuhyun and he looked to be speaking with an older, distinguished looking man who shared enough facial features to likely be his father.

Kyuhyun was nearly to him, Zhou Mi and Yunho dropping back to take their positions, when Siwon turned. His eyes lit up at the sight of Kyuhyun, then they raked over him, no amount of lust concealed.

“You’re a vision,” Siwon said, gliding over to Kyuhyun’s side. He pressed an almost provocative hand down Kyuhyun’s back and said, “You’re an angel.” He said it so differently than Zhou Mi had, and now the comparison left a bad taste in his mouth.

A second more, however, and Kyuhyun froze. 

It wasn’t possible … there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

As Siwon continued on about someone he wanted Kyuhyun to meet, the only thing Kyuhyun could do was stare back towards Zhou Mi and the Captain. He couldn’t call out to them. He couldn’t verbally tell them they had a huge problem, but maybe if they saw his face … 

“Here we are,” Siwon said, arm out to guide Kyuhyun along. 

The Eye. All Kyuhyun could see was the eye. 

And it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. In fact it was in the worst place it could have ever possibly ended up.

It was attached to a chain, hanging obnoxiously from Siwon’s neck, and there was absolutely no way they were going to steal that off his body.

Kyuhyun had no clue what he was supposed to do next.


	15. Fifteen: Onew

“You know,” Yoochun said, decisiveness in his tone, “this is my favorite place on the ship.”

Wedged under a bulkhead, legs crossed under him and the steady hum of the ship against his back, Onew told him, “Not many people would agree with you in that statement.” He closed his eyes and soaked in the warmth of the room. Like a reflection of the space around them, the rest of the ship was predominately cold. Even the crew’s personal cabins were colder than Onew personally preferred. But the engine room? It was always warm. It was like a hotbox at times, but mostly it was where Onew could toe his shoes off, not need to wear a jacket, and fall asleep anywhere feeling comfortable and happy. 

“Why not?” Yoochun asked, feet swinging from where he was lounging in the hammock Onew sometimes slept in. 

With the glow of the low lighting above them, and the way Yoochun had popped his collar open against the heat of the room, Onew thought he looked very attractive. He was an attractive man in general, and Onew had not missed the lingering looks Yoochun had sent his way. But it wasn’t Yoochun’s fault. He didn’t know about Joon, or what had happened. All he knew was that Onew slept alone at night, and it was extremely unlikely that any of the crew would mention what had happened to make that a fact.

Onew leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because most of the members of this crew are extremely social creatures. Kyuhyun, for spending a good deal of time on the bridge by himself, flocks naturally to others. The Captain and Leeteuk? They can’t stand being alone, maybe because their memories haunt them. Ryeowook lurks around the kitchen for a reason, too. People have to eat, and frequently. By sticking to the kitchen, he gets to interact with almost everyone several times a day.”

Yoochun’s eyebrows pulled together. “What about the other one? Mi?”

“Zhou Mi,” Onew said, and he had to admit, “I think Mi the only one of the rest of the crew who’s at peace with solidarity. He’ll follow Kyuhyun around like a lost puppy if given the chance, but that’s only because he’s in love with him in the way that people rarely love each other. So what I’m saying is that this crew is social by nature, and this engine room is a very lonely place to them.”

Yoochun swung back in the hammock. “I think that’s crazy talk. This is the heart of the ship. It’s warm and comforting. I come here and I feel at peace. I feel like, for just a second, I’m not running from anything.”

Onew pursed his lips and wondered if he ought to say anything. Finally his curiosity won out and he said, “By now you must assume that everyone here has had ample time to read your bounty. It’s been reissued by the Alliance. You’re running from the Alliance?”

“Not because I did something to the Alliance.” Yoochun peaked over at him. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime, but suffice to say, I know some things the Alliance would like to torture out of me. Before I helped Jaejoong escape from his father, I was helping curry information between important people. I’m running because I know that there’s no going back to where I was before. My cover is blown. And if I ever stop running, I’ll either end up getting people I care about killed, or I’ll be killed myself. Neither is very appealing as an option.”

“Well, as you might imagine, a ship is great place to lay low for a while. And this ship rarely stops moving for long.” Onew wondered, “Are you with us because you don’t have a better potion at the moment, or because of Jaejoong?” Would Yoochun be leaving them as soon as possible?

Onew wasn’t sure why he cared, other than the fact that Yoochun was easy to talk to, and was quickly becoming a friend.

“Maybe a little of both?” Yoochun shrugged. “Jaejoong is my brother, as far as I’m concerned. We were essentially raised together, looked out for each other, and there is no one I trust more with my life. I think this crew is exceptional, and I also believe that you all are going to love Jaejoong like family before the year is out. You’re already taking a risk keeping him on. But is this the life for me? Is there something better for me out there? Those are questions I don’t know how to answer. I barely know how to ask them. For right now, I’m here because it’s the best place or me. That might change in the future, but not in the near one.”

“It’s not just Jaejoong we’re going to love,” Onew said, feeling dissatisfied. Was that what Yoochun really thought? “I know things were a little rough in the beginning, but it’s not like we’re accepting Jaejoong and just bringing you along because we realize you’re a package deal. You don’t know the Captain, so it must be hard for you to realize what he’s done, but you’re a member of the crew. He’s not having Leeteuk or Mi keep an eye on you. He values your option and what you can contribute. Maybe you will find something better for you later on, but you are a member of this crew right now, and the Captain will protect you just the same as he’ll protect Jaejoong. The crew is his family, and you’re family now.”

Onew wasn’t sure that he’d won Yoochun over with his words as the man slunk further into the hammock and turned his eyes towards the bulkhead above him in thought.

“What about you?” Yoochun asked unexpectedly.

“Me?” Onew questioned.

Still not looking his way, Yoochun asked, “What are you running from?”

Onew felt his stomach drop a bit. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Rocking in the hammock, Yoochun continued, “Don’t you?” He sighed loudly. “I’ve seen your face, Onew, when you think people aren’t looking at you. When it’s just you and your thoughts, I’ve seen the heartbreak that’s so deep in you it’s impossible to hide. You’re running from something, too, and its made you into something you weren’t before.”

“Yoochun,” Onew eased out.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Yoochun insisted. “The kind of pain I see in you, it’s probably the kind that words don’t do justice to. Talking about it can’t be easy, so I’m not asking you to tell me anything. You should just know that I’ve also seen the love the crew has for you. And what’s the point of having family if they can’t help each other out in the worst of times?”

Yoochun wanted Onew to tell him. He was asking about Joon, even if he didn’t know he was.

It was startling to Onew to realize in that moment that he’d never actually spoken about the incident that had taken his lover’s life. The crew knew and they were terrified to say anything about it, so there was no one to tell. It wasn’t even Onew who had written to Joon’s mother to break the news, and when she’d written to him, her words had been delicate and deliberate to avoid blunt words. 

He wasn’t even sure he could get the words out.

“Onew?”

Onew inched forward on the warm ground so he could see Yoochun a bit more clearly. “That’s not my actual name.”

“No?” Yoochun threw his feet to the side and sat up. “Everyone calls you it.”

Onew nodded. “It’s my nickname. My actual name is Jinki, and I was using it my entire life until a few years ago when I met a man who decided it didn’t fit. He said Jinki was too stern of a name for someone who looked as happy as I did all the time. He insisted on calling me something different--better he decided, and that’s where Onew came from. And in return I started calling this man, who’s name was Changsun, Joon. I … I loved him very much.”

With concern, Yoochun said, “He’s not here for a reason, correct?”

Onew felt shaky and nauseas, but he’d started now and he had to finish. 

“I know the crew is fairly big right now, but in the beginning it was just the Captain and Leeteuk, who’s his very old friend, and Kyuhyun who wouldn’t take no for an answer and refused to fly with any other ship after getting on look at the Tohoshinki. It’s a saying, you know, that the ship chooses the pilot, not the other way around. Anyway, I was the fourth to join, and it was hard in the beginning. The Captain had to make some tough calls, and they weren’t always legal.. We were puling this job about four months after I joined, and they needed me down on the ground with them. It was just supposed to be so they could have an extra set of eyes on the ground to look out for any sort of backup, but we were surprised and cornered. We got caught.” Onew felt a chuckle force its way out. “We’re pretty good criminals now when we decide to act illegally, but we were terrible back then.”

Patiently Yoochun waited, and Onew couldn’t express his appreciation enough.

“We were attempting to lift a good deal of ration bars from this real jerk who’d stolen them from the local terraformers,” Onew continued on. “The plan was to give about half of them back to the settlers, who desperately needed the rations to get through the upcoming cold months, and sell the rest to make some profit. Joon was one of the guys who caught us. I think they were supposed to kill us. I’m sure of it. But Joon didn’t want to hurt either myself or Kyuhyun. He knew we weren’t the muscle, and we weren’t threats, either. He saw us as innocent and when someone tried to make a move in his stead, he killed them. He protected us, helped the Captain out, and that’s essential how he ended up a member of the crew. Now that I think about it, the Captain has a knack of finding good guys hidden in with the bad.”

“So you two fell in love over that?”

“Hardly,” Onew had forgotten what it was like to speak about Joon. It was burdensome in a lot of ways, but also freeing in others. “I didn’t think there was anything worth redeeming about him for a long while. I also didn’t think he deserved a pat on the back for doing the right thing when the alternative was killing a bunch of innocent people, and who knew how many other bad things he’d done? I didn’t even want to talk to him, and I warned the Captain to keep Kyuhyun away from him. That’s why he said I was too stern, and he wanted to call me Onew, because he thought if he had a happy moniker for me, maybe I’d smile at him like I did other people.”

“Kind of charming,” Yoochun snuck out.

Onew grinned a bit. “He was a total charmer. And he was relentless. He broke me down bit by bit, and proved himself a hundred times over, always hoping that each time would be moment when I changed my mind about him. He taught Kyuhyun how to defend himself. He helped the Captain establish the first contact that we ever had, someone we still work with from time to time, and he worked with Leeteuk to improve his sharp shooting, reflexes and things that have saved our lives. How could I not eventually give in? It seems inevitable now when I think about it. I let him call me Onew finally and he kissed me. I …” Onew felt himself fall apart in that moment, eye burning with unshed tears.

“You can stop,” Yoochun said gingerly. “I don’t want you to be in pain if this is too much.”

“I just,” Onew almost gasped out, “I miss him so much.”

The best moments of his life had been spent with Joon. They went everywhere together, to the farthest reaches of the ‘verse and saw the most amazing things. They laughed together, cried together and made love so fiercely that Onew couldn’t imagine anything more perfect waiting for them in the afterlife. Joon was his best friend, his protector and the only person who could make him smile when he was feeling his lowest. 

Onew heard Yoochun rise from the hammock that creaked a bit, and soft footsteps clanked on the grates of the floor until Yoochun was in front of him, kneeling down. 

Onew looked up to pure concern on Yoochun’s face. He hated that he could make another person hurt as well, even if it was only sympathy Yoochun was feeling. 

“I didn’t even get to burry Joon’s body,” Onew said. “I wanted to take him home to his mom and let her do it with me, but we left him behind.”

Evenly, Yoochun asked, “He died on a job?”

Onew gave a shivering nod. “On occasion we get contracted out for protection of some sort. There was, um, there was a town that was being pressed for protection money. When they refused to pay, the guy pressing them, some asshole who thought having money and power meant he could push others around, decided to institute a blockade. The town needed to be able to trade, and they also needed their supply drops. We were hired to make sure everything got through that was supposed to. It was supposed to be a cooperative effort, between us and the town.”

Yoochun offered, “There are some pretty impressively intimidating guys here.”

Onew agreed, “The Captain and Mi and Leeteuk and Joon were confident. But things went sour. The man issuing the blockade had informants within the town and things went south quickly. There was a shootout and there was some confusion, the way I hear it, about who was on what side and even the visibility of the gunfight was low.”

“You weren’t there?”

“No,” Onew said. “Joon never felt comfortable if I went with him on jobs, no matter the danger level. He said he couldn’t think if he had to worry about me, and the truth is I’m a greasy monkey. There’s not a lot I can do on most jobs. So no, I was here on the ship.”

It was still a haze to Onew, the exact moment the Captain had come back to the ship, bleeding from his shoulder, Mi limping and Leeteuk barely conscious from a nasty wound to the head. Joon wasn’t with them at all, and as Onew had demanded to know where he was, Kyuhyun had already been taking off.

Shaking himself back to the present, Onew said, “In the beginning I thought Joon was just this thug that had a moment of clarity. I thought eventually he’d end up getting someone on this crew hurt. I never imagined that he’d give his life protecting one of us. Yoochun, Yunho told me that Mi was busy trying to move a group of innocent townfolk out of the way when someone tried to shoot him in the back. He wasn’t paying attention, because he can be careless when he’s concerned about people, but Joon saw. The shooter was too far away to get to, and Joon had exhausted his clip, so he made a different call. He shoved Mi out of the way. He took the bullet meant for him.”

Yoochun put an arm around Onew, and it felt better than Onew had expected.

“It was a lethal shot?”

Onew leaned against Yoochun’s shoulder. “Bullet to the brain.”

So many times Onew had been unable to fight imagining what it had looked like. Joon surely hadn’t suffered, but he must have jerked so wildly from the impact. There had to be visceral everywhere … the dark stains covering Mi when he came limping back to the ship, shaking and dazed. The kind that had him vomiting in the bathroom for an hour afterwards while Kyuhyun begged and pleaded with him to open the door and let him help. 

“Then,” Onew added, “they started firebombing the town. Joon’s body … there wasn’t anything left to go for. There was nothing to give his mother. That was nine months ago.”

Nine months or nine years, Onew didn’t think he’d ever be okay.

Yoochun held him tighter, tucking Onew’s head under his chin. “I’m so very sorry you had to lose someone you love like that.”

“I am running,” Onew supposed, voice cracking. “I’m running from the pain of knowing he’ll never sleep next to me again. I can’t even get into that bed sometimes. Or maybe I’m running from the clothes that are still in the closet, and his razor in the bathroom--how about the pillow that smelled like him for days afterwards, or the birthday present he’d bought for me days before the job, that’s still wrapped and shoved under our bunk.”

Yoochun rubbed a hand along his back and Onew fought to reign in his emotions.

“I’ve never lost someone in the way you lost Joon,” Yoochun said, hand never stilling. “I can’t imagine the pain that you still feel to this day. Losing the person you love with all your heart? Only someone who’s gone through that can empathize. But I want you to know that you are so strong. I saw it the first time you inched your way out of the engine room to peek at Jaejoong and I. I saw it in the first dinner we all had together, and I continue to see your strength now. I think I’m no good at this, but weaker people would have completely fallen apart by now. To grieve and still be so strong? You’re amazing.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Onew managed.

“You probably just can’t see it in yourself,” Yoochun reasoned. “Don’t worry about it. I can see it for you.”

Onew felt the first tear escape and he burrowed closer into Yoochun’s chest. “Part of me is gone now. What feels like the best part.”

“Hey now,” Yoochun said, his thumb swiping at the tears. “This Joon sounds absolutely fierce, the way you described him. How would he feel knowing you’re crying over him right now? The dead don’t care for tears. Isn’t that what the old religion preaches? The dead care that we remember them, cherish their memories and never let them be forgotten. Are you ever going to forget Joon?”

“No,” Onew vowed, wiping at his own tears. “Never.”

“Then no tears,” Yoochun said, pulling them both up to their feet. “You need to think of all the best things about him, at all times. You remember when he made you happiest, and all the laughter and the feeling you felt when you kissed. That’s how you honor him. That’s what you do. Okay?”

Taking in a few heaving breaths, Onew palmed at his eyes to get rid of the rest of the tears. “Thank you.”

Yoochun cracked a tentative smile. “Honestly, I’m just parroting back all the things I learned from my religious studies. Jaejoong was a firm believer when he was young, so we learned together. It’s dropped off a lot now that he’s grown and he understands that religion can’t really save anyone, only comfort them, but I still remember the teachings.”

“I’m not really religious,” Onew admitted. “I never followed the old religion. Not like Changmin who swears by it, though that’s probably just his Companion training. But thank you. I mean it.”

Yoochun insisted, “You get to grieve, Onew. You get to grieve for as long as you feel you need to, and you can feel sad and hurt. But you can’t let it consume you. The second it starts to define you, it isn’t about the grief anymore.”

Onew put a hand on a nearby bulkhead. He wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to tell Yoochun his deepest secrets, but without much self control, he offered, “I think I’m going to leave the ship.”

“Leave?” Yoochun looked surprised. “Why? Where?”

“Joon’s mother invited me to stay with her for a while. She knows I’m struggling. I can barely stand to look around and see nothing but Joon everywhere. Leaving the ship for a while might clear my mind. It might do me some good. I hope it will.”

Yoochun let go of him in a way that left Onew feeling cold. He crossed his arms and declared, “That’s even crazier than people not liking the engine room. Onew, this ship is your home. The crew is your family. This is where you belong, even if it’s hard on you. Didn’t we just talk abut how running from things we have to face is a bad idea? If you leave, and you get as far away from the good memories as the bad ones, how can you feel okay again?”

“Maybe I don’t want to feel okay again!” Onew snapped angrily. Maybe he just wanted--

“Woah!” Yoochun yelled loudly, listing suddenly to the side at the same time as Onew.

And it wasn’t just them.

Onew stumbled, almost falling into Yoochun who caught him swiftly and braced a hand up against a nearby wall. 

“What the hell is going on?” Yoochun shouted, gripping Onew securely as the ship tilted again, this time in the opposite direction. “Who’s flying this ship?”

“We’re in a stable orbit,” Onew said, distracted by the unnatural vibrations going on around them. It felt like the ship was threatening to shake apart, which was disturbing to say the least. “The ship is on autopilot, but Ryeowook should be up in the cockpit right now.”

Yoochun finally let go of Onew and said, “I get the feeling that if he broke the ship Kyuhyun is going to kill him.”

“We need to check it out,” Onew said, already heading to the door. “Come on!”

At a dead run they made it up to the cockpit in mere minutes. Out of breath, Onew thought the first unnatural thing in front of him was that the doors to the cockpit were closed. They were almost notoriously always open. Kyuhyun liked to be able to shout things from the cockpit down to others, despite the intercom system they had, and it also helped make the room feel less claustrophobic to anyone else taking a turn at the helm. There was no way Ryeowook would have closed the doors, there was no reason to.

Yoochun gave a heavy grunt as he thrust them open, and immediately he was shouting, “Onew!”

Onew saw Ryeowook’s body a second later, sprawled out on the ground, limbs at awkward angles and blood smeared from his temple to forehead. “Ryeowook!” Dropping down next to him so hard that his knees hurt, he was able to see the wound on Ryeowook’s head more clearly. It looked like he’d been struck by something hard and sharp.

“What the hell happened?” Yoochun questioned, lunging for the controls as the ship listed again. “What’s going on?”

Alarms were blaring around them, lights flashing and Onew, who knew nothing about flying the ship, could tell that their navigation system was impaired somehow. A second later he caught sight of a control box without its protective casing, wires exposed and some cut. 

“I’ve got no control,” Yoochun said, flipping switches in a way that indicated he knew at least a bit about piloting. “Propulsion has been disabled, navigation is down, and we’re in a decaying orbit. We need to get control back immediately! What’s going on with Ryeowook?”

Onew had basic medical training. It was first aid that he’d picked up from various doctors the ship had had for however short a time, and it was enough for him to know that a head wound mean he had to check Ryeowook’s pupils. Onew made sure to keep Ryeowook’s neck untouched, then he lifted one eyelid, then the other, and said to Yoochun, “His pupils are sluggish and blown. He’s got a concussion for sure. We can’t move him, either. We don’t know if his spine is okay or how he fell.”

Heavy shoes clattered up the stairwell nearby and Onew turned juts in time to see Leeteuk charging up the stairs. He stumbled to the side and crashed into a wall as the ship tilted back into place, but it didn’t stop him demanding, “What’s going on?”

“Ryeowook’s down,” Onew said quickly, “we need Jaejoong.”

“This is more important!” Yoochun said, an unnatural and frantic urging to his words. “This ship is completely disabled right now.”

Leeteuk sidestepped Ryeowook and Onew to join him at the front of the bridge. “Explain. What isn’t working?”

“Everything!” Yoochun gestured a bit wildly. “Take a look at this. You know this class ship better than I do. Tell me what is actually working.”

“Leeteuk?” Onew asked, flinching as a second, emergency noise sounded.

“We’re dead in the water right now,” Leeteuk confirmed, his fingers flying over the controls. “This is …” He broke off and moved over to the exposed panel. “Damn.”

“How bad is this?” Onew demanded. He could feel the shudders and shakes of the ship intensifying. “Our orbit is compromised?”

“It’s decaying,” Yoochun said. “Whatever knocked out our guidance system here, broke us out of the steady orbit over New Haven we’d been in. We don’t have long before the planet’s gravity sucks us out of space, essentially. And when that happens, without any way to control our decent?”

They’d burn up and explode. Hopefully not in that order, if they were very lucky. Onew had no desire to cook in his skin.

“You mean whoever knocked out our guidance system,” Leeteuk said.

Onew’s eyes widened. “You think someone did this deliberately.” It was such an unexpected suggestion that Onew could barely think of how it was possible.

“I do,” Leeteuk said. He pulled his spare pistol from his boot holster and handed it over to Yoochun. “You two stay here and get Jaejoong up here to look at Ryeowook. Do what you can to salvage our orbit before it’s too late. But do not leave this room.”

“Wait!” Onew surged up to his feet. “This is a Mako class freighter. They have notoriously difficult navigation systems. So there’s a backup in the engine room. It’s archaic at best, but I might be able to control the ship from there. At least long enough to get something up here fixed, but it’s all manual.”

“Go,” Leeteuk said, nodding firmly. “Yoochun, take him there personally. Don’t let him out of your sight. As far as you’re concerned, he’s the most important person on this ship right now. Get him to that navigation unit.”

Yoochun squared his shoulders. “I’ll protect him with my life.”

Feeling a little light headed, Onew asked, “Where are you going, Leeteuk? What’s happening? What are you thinking?”

Leeteuk slid his primary pistol out of the holster at his hip and checked the chamber before telling Onew, “Someone deliberately disabled this ship. It’s clear by the cut wires that this is sabotage. And there’s only one person on this ship that we don’t know anything about, who might have the slightest bit to gain from this.”

Onew’s head cocked. “The guy we picked up from the Moon Hub?”

The hammer of the gun cocked and Leeteuk gave a firm nod. “As of right now you two consider him dangerous and a threat. I’m going to find him now, but watch yourselves if you come across him before me.”

Leeteuk was taking off in a blur as Onew shouted after him, “We can’t just leave Ryeowook without any protection!” But Leeteuk didn’t stop or offer any extra words. 

“Come on,” Yoochun said, pulling Onew up by a strong grip. “We have to get you down to the engines. You have to get control of this ship.”

“I am not leaving Ryeowook if we have a madman on this ship, clearly hellbent on getting us killed.”

“Onew.” Yoochun’s hands settled on the sides of Onew’s face and the hold was so intimate Onew froze. “If that guy was in here and really wrecked out navigation, he could have killed Ryeowook without any trouble. He clearly doesn’t see Ryeowook as a threat. But if we don’t get to the engine room and get control of this ship, we are all going to die. You want to save Ryeowook? Then let’s do that the only way we know how to. We’ll call for Jaejoong right now, but we have to go. Do you understand?”

Onew gave a mute nod. “Okay.”

“Good,” Yoochun said, and then suddenly he was leaning forward. The kiss was so sudden and so quick that Onew nearly missed it. And for the moments afterwards where everything was going numb, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of thought again.

“Yoochun …”

Yoochun seemed to realize what he’d done only a brief second later, and his eyes were wide with shock. “I’m sorry … I just … you look so beautiful right now …”

The jolt of another tremor forced Onew to start thinking again. “Later,” he said to Yoochun, not sure what else there was to say right now, not with his mind blanking on him and his heart swelling like it had the last time Joon had smiled at him. Instead Onew bypassed the conversation completely and instead lunged for the intercom. “Jaejoong?” Onew called out frantically. “Can you hear us?”

There was no reply and Yoochun said from Onew’s side, “The intercom must be dead, too. We can’t wait any longer.”

Onew felt Yoochun’s warm hand close around his own and suddenly he was being tugged from the cockpit. “Wait!” Onew called as the descended the stairs outside quickly.

“We’ll pass by the infirmary on the way!’ Yoochun yelled over his shoulder, never letting up on the grip he had on Onew’s hand for a second.

Yoochun’s fingers were warm. They were warm and secure and they made Onew feel just a little less scared despite the situation around them.

It was weird.

Onew had felt scared in general, maybe scared of what he himself was feeling and of the depth of his despair, for so long. Nine long months. He felt scared when he woke up, every time he looked in the mirror, and most certainly the moment he’d considered ending his own life. The fear was as normal as the pain.

But now, holding Yoochun’s hand … in fact from the moment he’d opened up about Joon and Yoochun had held him close, the fear was receding. It was pulling back like the tides and in its place was something much different. 

Safe. Yoochun made him feel safe.

The pain and grief was still there, so overwhelming in Onew’s heart, but the fear was steadily being replaced by a feeling of safety that Onew could have wept from.

“Here!” Yoochun said when the infirmary was in sight. 

Something wasn’t right with the infirmary, either. Onew had expected clutter on the ground, and shelves emptied from the suddenness of the ship losing its navigation. What was not expected was the absolute chaos visible through the open door. It looked as if a tornado had swept through the infirmary and destroyed a great deal of things. 

“Jaejoong!’ Yoochun called out, and it was then that he let go of Onew’s hand.

Onew wanted the familiar grip back immediately, and it made him think all at once of the brief meeting of their lips. The kiss had only been chaste, but the brush of Yoochun’s soft lips against Onew’s own … it hadn’t felt wrong. It hadn’t felt passionless, either. 

Onew felt like a cheater. He felt like he was the most horrible person in the world. Joon was the one he loved. Joon was his partner and they would have been married by now if he’d survived. It wouldn’t be Kyuhyun and Mi getting married from the shock of almost losing each other. So why was Onew remembering how nice the kiss had been? How it had felt special?

“Jaejoong! Answer me!”

Yoochun plowed into the infirmary and Onew wasn’t far behind, trying once more to block out the feelings and the memory of the kiss. This wasn’t the time, and it couldn’t be the place.

The most notable thing about the infirmary, at least in that moment, wasn’t the destruction, but instead what was missing.

Jaejoong most certainly wasn’t there. 

For years there had never been a steady presence of a doctor in their infirmary. Onew had gotten used to being the one to patch the crew’s cuts and bruises, and for forever passing by an empty and dark room that never smelled as much like antiseptic as it should. Yet now, in such a short time, Onew had come to associate the room with Jaejoong. Maybe that meant that Jaejoong was always meant to be the doctor, or maybe it was an association made because he’d saved Changmin’s life. In any case, it was weird now to see an empty room.

Weird, wrong and suspicious.

“Jaejoong!”

Onew turned a bit in a circle. “What happened here? Where is he?”

“Maybe he went looking for us?” Yoochun said, looking the most uncertain Onew had ever seen from him. Yoochun was naturally a confident individual, and it did his features injustice for him not to look that way in the moment.

A strangled groan caught their attention and Onew peeked around the high infirmary bed that he now realized Changmin was also missing from. He’d been sleeping in the bed again after his sudden relapse, with Jaejoong reluctant to let him out of sight for a while.

“Changmin!”

Onew tripped his way past wayward boxes of surgical gloves, bottles of cleaning bleach and miscellaneous objects to find Changmin mostly hidden from sight, curled up on his side and barely conscious.

“What happened?” Onew asked, turning him gently onto his back while cushioning the back of his head. “Changmin?”

Yoochun crashed down beside them, too aggressive as he asked, “Where is Jaejoong? What happened to him.”

“Calm down,” Onew snapped at him. He turned back to Changmin and asked softer, “Changmin? Are you with us?” It wasn’t exactly clear, with how lax Changmin was, with heavily lidded eyes. “Minnie?”

With a fevered gaze, one that was worse than the last time Onew had seen him, Changmin nodded slowly. “Something is wrong with the ship,” he mumbled. 

“I know,” Onew said, pushing back Changmin’s bangs to get an honest feel to how hot the man was. “We’re working on fixing it. Can you tell us where Jaejoong is? Did he go looking for help?” 

Onew could feel Yoochun practically vibrating with a lack of patience next to him.

“Jaejoong,” Changmin wheezed out, coughing just after that. “He … there was …”

“I have to go look for him,” Jaejoong said, springing to his feet. “Changmin is too sick. He had no clue what he’s saying.”

“There was a man,” Changmin finally manage to get out.

“Man?” Yoochun asked, freezing. 

Onew bent further over Changmin, asking, “What kind of man, Changmin? Leeteuk?”

“No.” Changmin shook his head, then it lolled to the side. “I don’t know who. He … I woke up. He was fighting with Jaejoong. I … got pushed. I’m not … I don’t know what’s going on.”

Onew turned fearful eyes on Yoochun. “Changmin’s never seen Xia. They never ran across each other on this ship.”

Yoochun’s grip tightened visibly on the gun. “This man took him?”

“I don’t know,” Changmin mumbled. “I’m hot.”

“You’re okay,” Onew soothed. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Onew.” 

A heavy, powerful hand settled on his shoulder, and when Onew looked up at Yoochun, the look on his face was unrecognizable.

“What is it?” Onew asked at a whisper.

Without the slightest bit of emotion to his words, Yoochun said, “You need to go to the engine room now, Onew. You need to get control of this ship back.”

“Where are you going?” Onew asked, standing slowly. Yoochun had implied in so few words that he would not be accompanying him like they planned. 

Onew watched Yoochun carefully as he readied the pistol in his hands. “Jaejoong has a very lucrative bounty on his head right now. Someone who isn’t one of us disabled our navigation system, lured us away from the main area of the ship where this infirmary is located, and now Jaejoong is missing and Changmin just said there was a man he didn’t recognize here. What do you think I’m thinking? Where do you think I’m going?”

“You don’t even know where Jaejoong is.”

“I’ll find him,” Yoochun said confidently. “Can you get to the engine room without me?”

Onew rolled his eyes. “Of course I can.”

“Then be careful,” Yoochun said by way of parting, and then he was stepping out of the infirmary to hunt down his friend. 

“Onew?” Changmin called out weakly. 

“Changmin,” Onew said, peeking back over the bed at him. “Just stay there. I’ll be back for you soon, I promise!” 

He had to prioritize the ship. He had to do what Yoochun hadn’t. His goal was to get to the engine room, put the ship back in orbit, and keep them from burning up in atmo. There was nothing else more important, not even Changmin and Ryeowook who needed medical help, or Jaejoong who was potentially kidnapped.

“I’ll be back!” Onew told Changmin one more time. Then he was running, flying down the hallways towards the engine room. 

He felt a surge of victory when the engine room came into view. He tried to recall exactly where the control panel was as he dashed nearer. It had to be in the far back, where the more intricate wiring ran. He only had to pry loose the--

The explosion was the last thing he expected. It knocked him off his feet and the heat from it seared him badly. In less than a second he was smashing into a wall, his body flashing with pain and then everything was going dark. There was nothing after that.


	16. Sixteen: Zhou Mi

So the ballroom was beautiful. There was no denying that. From top to bottom it was decorated splendidly, reeking of money and status, and a perfect reflection of the host of the night. 

But it absolutely paled in comparison to the sight that Kyuhyun made, gliding through the crowd easily in white that made him look ethereal. Zhou Mi knew he was a bit biased with how attractive he found Kyuhyun, after all, he was in love with him. But Zhou Mi was absolutely sure that Kyuhyun at the moment could have made a blind man look twice.

“He looks beautiful,” Zhou Mi couldn’t help sighing out, forgetting himself for a moment. The Kyuhyun Zhou Mi was used to was a cheery, sometimes clumsy, teenager on the cusp of becoming a man. He was used to seeing Kyuhyun lounging around in other people’s clothing, counting his hair done as running his fingers through it, and was more comfortable looking natural than trying to dress to impress. Sure, when he and Changmin got together they’d dress each other up and act like thirteen year old girls, but Kyuhyun’s beauty was an easy one. 

It wasn’t the perfected doll image in front of Zhou Mi that was being projected right now.

But gods if the sight wasn’t making Zhou Mi feel a little unsteady on his feet, what with the way that the silken cloth of the clothing wrapped around Kyuyhun’s body was making him seem like one of the old gods reborn. He was stunning, from his perfectly styled hair to the red tint to his lips. And Zhou Mi hated that he was certain to be told exactly that by a man like Choi Siwon.

“He looks good,” Yunho agreed next to him, the Captain obviously trying not to fidget in the clothing they were dressed in. The high collared shirts and starched pants were a far cry from the easy clothing they usually wore, but necessary to maintain the illusion of what they were supposed to be. “Choi is bound to look twice at him.”

“I’m not worried about him looking,” Zhou Mi said, his eyes tracking Kyuhyun as he neared Choi. 

“Hey.” Yunho put a heavy hand on Zhou Mi and cut in front of him, blocking out the sight of Kyuhyun. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Problem?” Zhou Mi echoed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Please,” Yunho scoffed. “That is the person you love out there. The one you stubbornly married even though I told you he was too young. And he’s about to play the part of a Companion on the biggest stage of his life. That includes wandering hands and leering, to say the least. We are not going to let it get past that point, but I need to know right now if you’re in danger of not being able to deal with this.”

Zhou Mi turned angry eyes on his Captain. “I’m not going to ruin this for us.”

“Maybe not on purpose,” Yunho shrugged, “but I need to know that you won’t lose your cool in the middle of this if Choi makes a move on Kyuhyun that you are sure to find offensive. I need to know that you understand Kyuhyun is a big boy, and if he says he can do this, we have to let him. I don’t need to be worried about you on top of him.”

Zhou Mi shook free his hands, realizing suddenly that they’d balled into fists without his say so. He supposed the truth was that he’d wanted to strangle Choi from the moment that he’d heard about how rough he’d been with Changmin in the past. And it was going to be the most severe test of his patience ever to watch beautiful Kyuhyun interact with Choi, but Zhou Mi wouldn’t endanger Kyuhyun by blowing his cover.

“I can play my part too,” Zhou Mi said finally. “You don’t have to worry.”

The Captain’s gaze was on him for an almost awkward amount of time, then he nodded and said, “Okay.”

Zhou Mi didn’t exactly consider himself combative. Not by nature. And true to form, when he and Kyuhyun fought, which was rarely, Zhou Mi was always the first to give in. Zhou Mi did not need to have the last word. He did not feel any sort of excitement in riling people up. And his Captain was certainly the last person he wanted to argue with in the ‘verse. 

Still, he found himself saying, “Would I be having this conversation with you if that were Changmin out there? Looking like an angel, being handled roughly by a brute?”

The Captain cut him a dangerous look and Zhou Mi regretted his words at least somewhat.

“You know how hard I fought to keep Changmin from agreeing to be the one out there. And putting Kyuhyun in his place at the last second wasn’t, no matter what you seem to think, a relief to me. I merely swapped one brother out for another, Mi.”

Zhou Mi mumbled an apology, watching as Kyuhyun reached Choi’s side and was making small talk with him. Kyuhyun looked a little stiff from the distance they were from each other, but not so noticeably. He was probably just nervous, and he’d get better as the night went on.

“And for the record,” the Captain said, in a most unexpected way, “you probably would be giving me the same talk, if that were Minnie out there.”

Zhou Mi let out a low chuckle. 

For the next few minutes there wasn’t much to do. The gala hadn’t officially started yet and people were still pouring in from the huge double doors on either side of the ballroom. Choi was making the rounds, greeting his guests with Kyuhyun at his side, but it was difficult keeping an eye on the both of them as people cluttered the way.

“I’ll give Kyuhyun the signal soon,” Yunho said lowly. “That’s when you’ll slip away. You remember the exact order in which to do things?”

Zhou Mi didn’t bother to nod. Instead he merely replied, “Be seen entering the restroom, but not exiting. Steal two security uniforms for us without leaving any evidence, do a preliminary run through of the observation room, then return here to get you. Nothing else, and no deviating from the plan.”

“Good,” Yunho rumbled. 

While they waited for the gala to begin, Zhou Mi took the time to check the security force already present. They’d been roaming the halls in pairs of two and four when Zhou Mi and Yunho had escorted Kyuhyun to the ballroom, and they were clustered around now as inconspicuously as possible. The security detail was heavier than Zhou Mi had expected, but not unmanageable, and it simply meant a better chance of blending in.

The lights flickered twice and the crowd moved back, leaving Choi standing alone in the center of room. 

“Here we go,” Zhou Mi said.

It was with Choi’s voice broadcasting, thanking his guests for their time and presence, that Zhou Mi heard Yunho swear colorfully next to him.

“Mi,” the Captain said sharply, eyes narrowing. “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is around Choi’s neck.”

The entire time Zhou Mi had been staring at Kyuhyun, who’d been staring back, there’d been something troublesome in his expression. It was obvious Kyuhyun was trying to get some kind of message across to him, but it was impossible to tell what. Neither would it be possible for Zhou Mi to verbally hear what the problem was. He only knew whatever it was, Kyuhyun looked shaken up about it.

“Huh?”

Zhou Mi’s eyes drifted to Choi and the bright red gleam of the Eye was all too obvious against the white and blue of the tailored suit Choi wore.

“Shit,” Zhou Mi said himself, understanding immaturely why Kyuhyun had been so stiff upon initially meeting Choi. He’d seen it right away, and he’d been trying to get the message back to them somehow.

The Captain demanded to know, “What the hell is he doing wearing it? It’s supposed to be headed to the observation room, or already there.”

This … severely ruined their carefully crafted plans. 

Part of Zhou Mi couldn’t help wondering if the old gods were trying to tell them something. After all, from the very beginning the plan had been fraught with issues and complications and near misses. 

“What are we going to do?” Zhou Mi asked. They couldn’t very well take the Eye off Choi’s body. Even with a perfect replica, there was no way to get it switched without Choi noticing.

A look of worry was slowly overtaking Kyuhyun’s face as he silently asked what to do. He was looking jittery and anxious and his composure was nearly wrecked. Zhou Mi just didn’t know what to tell him to do.

“Captain?”

“Okay, okay,” Yunho said calmingly, more like it was for his own sake than Zhou Mi’s. “We wait. He’s obviously wearing it to make a statement. He wants the first thing people to see of him to be that stupid gem. But he can’t be planning to wear it the whole night. He’ll take it off. We just have to be patient.”

With the opening speech over and done with, the orchestra kicked up and Zhou Mi watched awkwardly as Kyuhyun accepted Choi’s hand for the first dance of the night. He looked so uncomfortable that it grated under Zhou Mi’s own skin. 

It had only been a few days since Kyuhyun had learned to waltz, but Zhou Mi watched him glide across the floor like he’d been doing it for years. There was still unease in his features, but he seemed to be doing his best to hide the fact from Choi.

It actually looked a bit as if Kyuhyun could have been spewing an incoherent mess at Choi, and he wouldn’t have cared a bit. The man was gazing at Kyuhyun with absolute infatuation . It seemed safe to say that the bait had been taken. 

But what good was that when the real goal was currently unreachable?

“In the meanwhile,” Yunho said, sweat starting to collect along his forehead, “we go on with the plan. At the end of this dance you’re going to head directly to the bathroom. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Kyuhyun.”

“Maybe--” Zhou Mi started, not really sure how he was going to actually phrase what he wanted to say. Maybe he should be the one to stay? Maybe that there was no way he was letting Kyuhyun out of his sight now that the plan was crumbling before their eyes.

Yunho said sharply, “Mi, we are not straying from the plan.”

Zhou Mi made to argue, “If we just--”

“No,” Yunho said, maybe a little too loudly, but with absolute certainty. He quieted after that, leaned his head closer to Zhou Mi and said softly, “I won’t let him out of my sight, Mi. I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise.”

The Captain wasn’t one to make promises lightly. That was what Zhou Mi had first come to respect about him. Men often made promises lightly, with no intent to keep them, or no honor in the attempt. But Yunho rarely promised, and he even more rarely broke a promise. His promise was his word, and if the fact that he considered Kyuhyun family wasn’t already enough, his promise was.

“Alright,” Zhou Mi said a little shakily, which he guessed helped the fact that he was supposed to be ill very soon. “Okay. Please.”

If anything happened to Kyuhyun while he was gone …

It was another fifteen minutes before the dance was done, time which Zhou Mi used to compose himself. And before Yunho could give any kind of signal to Kyuhyun who was still caught up in Choi’s arms, the second song began. 

The music of the night was more like the flow of water, Zhou Mi discovered, which was something neither he nor Yunho had anticipated. Neither one of them knew much about live orchestras in any case, or the rate of which the music was supposed to flow. But the breaks were few and far between, and the minutes crept by slowly, like torture.

Finally, blessedly, a significant break was called, and Zhou Mi was on his way, heading directly towards the restroom where he was sure to be seen by a few of the security staff loitering nearby. It was easier than expected to wait patiently for another sixty seconds for the security to be distracted by an especially pretty girl passing by. 

The Choi estate was build like a labyrinth. Zhou Mi had forced himself to spend what precious time he had before arriving, memorizing every inch of it to the best of his ability. He’d been confident enough that he’d accomplished that task before arriving planet side, but being in the actual home was something a bit more challenging. Recalling the blueprints seemed more difficult now, and required more of his concentration. 

But at the least the uniforms he and Yunho would require were easy enough to come by, and the especially forceful hits he delivered to the men wearing them, ensured that they wouldn’t be waking up for a long while. Maybe they’d even wake up and be completely confused as to what had happened.

The most difficult part, in Zhou Mi’s opinion, was navigating the estate while avoiding the cameras. He could trip the feed up when he was closer to the main circuit, which was located conveniently on the way to the observation room, but until then he had to be as innocuous as possible. 

Making his way directly to the observation area, he counted that the number of security was only growing with each corridor he passed down. He and Yunho had smuggled in an almost asinine amount of sleeping gas to take care of the main room where they’d believed the Eye to be housed in, but it was suddenly looking like they’d need a lot more than they’d planned for.

It was also starting to seem like the odds were more stacked against them than Zhou Mi had thought possible. He wanted to make the score. He wanted to pull the job. But the risks were far outweighing the reward at the moment. 

Was if they just cut and run right away? 

They had just enough left in their fuel cells to get somewhere that they could pick up another job. This didn’t have to be the end all.

With similar thoughts heavy in his mind, Zhou Mi set to work quickly intercepting the estate’s camera feed. A simple playback loop wouldn’t fool the system forever, but it was enough for the next hour, which was all they planned to be on the planet. And shutting down the extra, heightened security systems was too easy as well. It was almost like child’s play, disabling one system after another, using one to cover up the next.

The only thing left to do was case the observation area, in hopes that eventually the Eye would make its way there. 

Wearing the security uniform’s blues made it almost too easy to move into what could be considered a restricted area. And with wide, watchful eyes, he observed the security shift changes, the layout of the observation room, and the display case that was surely meant to house the Eye.

If it weren’t for Choi having the Eye on him, Zhou Mi might still be confident in making the switch.

They had to find a way to get it off him. They had to get the Eye away from him, or they had to scrap the whole thing.

Zhou Mi made the switch back to his old clothes, stashed the uniforms for both himself and Yunho near by, and then walked as quickly as he could back to the ballroom.

“Captain,” Zhou Mi said lowly, reentering the ballroom and heading directly to where he’d left Yunho. The room was absolutely filled to the brim with guests, more packed than it had been when Zhou Mi had left, and without looking awkward, there was no way to look for Kyuhyun himself. 

“Everything go over fine?” Yunho asked.

Zhou Mi nodded. “We get the Eye away from Choi and it’s a go. I disrupted the cameras to make us ghosts, and while the security is heavy around the observation area, it also tells me Choi is planning on putting something of value in there soon. Now, where’s Kyuhyun?”

It was maybe a futile thing, but Zhou Mi had been searching endlessly since entering the ballroom for a pale figure in white. There were plenty of guests who had white in their clothing, but few who were wearing the color exclusively. And none were close to being as beautiful in the color as Kyuhyun was.

“He’s not out there,” Yunho said, almost sounding aggravated.

“Why not?” Zhou Mi forced himself not to jump to conclusions. Choi was still visible on the floor, so it wasn’t as if the man had carted Kyuhyun away with nefarious intentions. “Where is he?”

Yunho gave a huff that most certainly meant he was irritated. “Didn’t you hear Choi earlier? When he was attempting to intimidate Kyuhyun during tea? He’s going to make Kyuhyun sing for him, and for everyone else here.”

Kyuhyun had a deep, rich voice, the kind that soothed and comforted without any extra effort on Kyuhyun’s part. It was a voice best suited for slower songs, the kind that evoked the deepest of emotions, and it was always Zhou Mi’s favorite time when he could convince Kyuhyun to sing something for him. Sometimes they’d sing together, but Zhou Mi preferred just to listen when given the choice. 

He just wasn’t sure how Kyuhyun was going to handle singing for a room of almost three hundred people. The most he’d ever sang for was the crew, and even that was rare. 

“That doesn’t answer my question where he is,” Zhou Mi said, trying not to sound testy. It was making his skin itch to have Kyuhyun out of sight for so long. 

“He’ll be back,” Yunho said. “Stop panicking. Choi is still in the room and he’s the threat to Kyuhyun. He’s here and not in the bathroom that Kyuhyun is in at the moment, trying not to get sick all over because of his nerves.”

No. He couldn’t just stand around. He couldn’t.

“Which direction did he go?” Zhou Mi asked.

Yunho waved a hand across the ballroom. “That direction. But if Choi and Kyuhyun aren’t in the same room, and Choi has the Eye, we need to keep both eyes on--hey! Mi!”

Zhou Mi ignored him, cutting across the ballroom as quickly as he could. He pushed past lavishly dressed women, men in suits, and quite possibly Choi Siwon himself, before crashing into the bathroom that Yunho had indicated, subtly be damned.

Kyuhyun was at one of the sinks, the kind with water from a naturally occurring source on the planet, pumped in and purified, instead of the recycled kind they had on the ship. His hands were braced against the pristine white of the sink and he was hunched over, shoulders shaking and water dripping from his face from where he’d splashed some on him.

“Guixian?”

Kyuhyun turned sharply, fear on his face for a half second then relief. “It’s you.”

Zhou Mi checked the bathroom quickly, pleased to find it empty, then made his way to Kyuhyun’s side where he gathered him up in his arms. “Expecting someone else?”

Kyuhyun bit out a wry laugh. “Siwon.” Zhou Mi tensed as Kyuhyun added, “I told him I needed a private area with great acoustics to get my voice warmed up. He wanted to come with me. I barely got away from him.”

Gruffly, Zhou Mi said, rubbing his hands up and down Kyuhyun’s arms for warmth, “He’s been especially clingy to you.”

“Must mean he likes me,” Kyuhyun said with a smile, but it failed to look anything but forced, and Zhou Mi knew how uncomfortable Kyuhyun was at the moment. 

Zhou Mi bent slowly and deliberately, tilting Kyuhyun’s head up for a soft kiss. He pushed his fingers up into the hair the bottom of Kyuhyun’s nape and felt absolutely complete. And the moment Kyuhyun responded to him, pushing up into the kiss, mouth parting in a happy sigh, Zhou Mi knew the sentiments were returned.

“You are going to be amazing,” Zhou Mi said, pecking Kyuhyun’s mouth with another, smaller kiss. “You have an incredible voice.”

Kyuhyun smiled again, and this time it almost seemed to reach his eyes. “Way better than Min’s.”

“Way better than Min’s,” Zhou Mi agreed with a chuckle.

Kyuhyun wrapped an arm around Zhou Mi and sank into his embrace. “I feel like I’m going to be sick. There are almost three hundred people out there. How am I going to get up there and sing knowing they’re all watching me? And be good enough for it to look like I’ve had years of my voice being cultivated by the Companion’s Guild.”

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

“Nervous?” Kyuhyun bit out. “ I feel like I’m going to get sick. All over everyone out there.” Kyuhyun’s eyebrows rose as he pondered, “If there was projectile vomit in Siwon’s direction, I’m pretty sure he’d have to take the Eye off. Maybe we should be considering this. Maybe we should--”

“Guixian,” Zhou Mi said gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “How about we just stick to the plan we already have?” Though from Zhou Mi’s perspective, it was an increasingly interesting option. “Now, what are you going to sing?”

With a guilty face, Kyuhyun told him uncertainly, “Our song?” He winced a bit. “Okay, I know it’s our song, and Siwon or anyone else out there shouldn’t get to hear it, but it’s the one I’ve sung the most, and I’m terrified that if I pick any other song I’ll get up there and forget the words and blow our cover, and then everyone will start laughing and I’ll probably just die where I’m standing and--”

Zhou Mi kissed him again, this time a hit harder, with much more intent. Their kiss was all tongue and teeth and the ferocity that they usually only had when falling into bed together, but Zhou Mi couldn’t bring himself to hold back, and he could feel Kyuhyun shaking against him.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he said once more when they parted. He cupped Kyuhyun’s face and smiled as brightly and comfortingly at him as possible. “But don’t ever doubt how amazing you’re going to be. You’re forgetting, I’ve heard you sing before. I know what you’re capable of, and you’re about to be brilliant.”

“Yeah?” Kyuhyun breathed out, finally looking like he was starting to regain his confidence.

Zhou Mi pointed out, “But you’ve gone and ruined your makeup.” The water had washed some of it away and finally Kyuhyun was starting to look like his old self. He was certainly stunning with it, but he was even more beautiful to Zhou Mi with a bare face.

Before they could kiss again, something that Zhou Mi very much wanted to do, the sound of the bathroom door swinging open interrupted them. Zhou Mi dashed for a nearby toilet, just managing to hide himself in time.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kyuhyun said, immediately leaning towards the mirror to fuss with his hair. It was the infection in his tone that told Zhou Mi exactly whom he was speaking with. 

“You’ve removed your makeup,” Choi said, crossing to his side. 

“Ah, yes,” Kyuhyun said, voice shaking a bit. It was such instability that forced Zhou Mi to peek around the door. His stomach clenched up as he watched Choi’s fingers trailing across Kyuhyun’s jaw. “When I perform, I want to embody the music itself. I want to bare my soul, so to speak. Makeup is an unnecessary illusion. When you hear my song, you’ll understand.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Choi said, almost crowding Kyuhyun up against the skin. “And I have every faith that you’ll be as spectacular as I imagine.”

Kyuhyun put a hand on Choi’s shoulder, grinning at him and Zhou Mi had to pull back. It was only acting, he told himself. Kyuhyun had to look like he was interested in Choi. It wasn’t real, and Zhou Mi knew for a fact that Kyuhyun found the man to be terrifying. 

“Show me to the stage?” Kyuhyun requested. 

They were gone without so much as a pause and it was Zhou Mi’s turn to splash water on his face. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Yunho said the second Zhou Mi was back at his side. 

“I needed to talk to Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi said, watching as Choi presented Kyuhyun to the crowd. “And he needed to see me.”

Yunho was quiet for a moment as the crowd applauded, then he asked, “He’s nervous?”

“Very,” Zhou Mi cut out. “But it think he’ll be okay. He’ll get through this.”

“Good,” Yunho said.

The lights went down around them and Zhou Mi wanted to push forward for a better spot. He barely kept his feet still under him, and it was quite possible that if he did try to move, the Captain would seriously injure him. Already he’d taken quite a few liberties with the chain of command.

But this was Kyuhyun, and if there was anyone to inspire independence, it was him.

“Here we go,” Yunho said, and Zhou Mi could tell he was watching Choi, and not Kyuhyun.

Kyuhyun’s voice was magnificently strong. When he sang it was full of emotion, full of depth, and absolutely moving. He had the kind of voice that was incredibly distinctive, and that Zhou Mi could listen to a hundred times over and not become bored with. And standing up on stage? Kyuhyun was only shinning more than usual, his voice belting out with such power that Zhou Mi closed his eyes and just listened. Just felt.

The song was likely three minuets, maybe four if Zhou Mi was being generous, but it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Kyuhyun’s performance was flawless, and it was met by a roar of applause so loud it nearly made Zhou Mi’s ears ache.

“Look at Choi’s face!” Yunho had to yell over the applause that wasn’t dying down while Kyuhyun gave respectful half bows to the crowd.

Zhou Mi tore his gaze away from Kyuhyun and to Choi who was bounding over to him. He looked … smitten. No, he looked more than that. He looked in love. 

Zhou Mi turned back to Yunho sharply. Was this something the Captain had wanted to happen? If not, why did he look so pleased with how things had unfolded.

“Captain?”

“We can’t make Choi take the Eye off,” Yunho said, giving Zhou Mi a pointed look. “But the look on Choi’s faces says there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Kyuhyun right now.”

Finally the applause was dying down, and despite calls for an encore, Kyuhyun was stepping down from the stage. Zhou Mi was half impressed Kyuhyun’s legs were supporting him so strongly. He was more than a little pale. 

“We need to talk to Kyuhyun,” Yunho decided. “Everything is about to hinge on him.”

“Again,” Zhou Mi said tensely. “Again.”

It was at least forty-five minutes before Yunho even dared motion at Kyuhyun, and during that time Zhou Mi called upon every bit of his patience, and pushed away all the of the unease that had settled into his chest.

“We can talk,” Kyuhyun said when he was near enough, standing on the fringes of the ballroom with them. He’d had to endure countless people stopping him along the way, inquiring about contracting him, complimenting his voice and cutting into the precious time they had while Siwon was distracted by a pretty woman in a deep green gown who Kyuhyun mumbled at them was Siwon’s sister--his incredibly drunk and borderline belligerent sister. “He’ll be dealing with her for a while yet.”

Before Yunho could say anything about a new, hastily manufactured plan, Zhou Mi was sure to cut in first, “You were brilliant up there. Just like I knew you’d be.”

There was a sudden rush of pleasure in Kyuhyun’s eyes. “I was a nervous wreck the entire time, but I also loved every second of it. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes,” Zhou Mi laughed out. “I imagine that’s very normal for anyone performing for such a large crowd.”

Kyuhyun confessed, “I wanted to stay for the encore the crowd was demanding, but I thought it better that we try and meet. By now you’ve seen what I have.”

“It’s around his neck,” Yunho said flatly. “Of all the things we anticipated going wrong, that isn’t the one we considered.”

“We have to get it away from him,” Kyuhyun said quickly. “Or else scrap the entire rest of the plan.” Kyuhyun looked between them with anticipation. “I take it that’s not what we want to do?”

“No,” Zhou Mi said.

“Kyuhyun,” Yunho said, daring to touch his elbow. “Choi’s looking at you like he’s in love with you already.”

Kyuhyun snorted and said, “Considering the very naughty things he’s been whispering to me, I hope he doesn’t speak to the people he loves that way.”

Zhou Mi’s eyes narrowed. “What kinds of things?”

“Never mind,” Yunho intercepted.

Kyuhyun huffed and explained, “It’s nothing you wouldn’t expect a man like him to say to a client he’s paid for. But suffice to say, they’re dirty and you don’t want to hear them.”

“No,” Zhou Mi said sullenly.

“The point is,” Yunho said, pulling Kyuhyun even closer to them, “you could ask Choi for the world and he’d likely give it to you.”

Kyuhyun frowned. “And that’s what you want me to do? Ask for the proverbial world?”

“No,” Yunho said, shaking his head, “just the one around his neck.”

Zhou Mi himself couldn’t help looking back at Choi. The Eye was still around his neck, his sister still at his side.

Confusion lacing Kyuhyun’s features, he posed, “I know he likes me, Captain, but I don’t think he likes me that much.”

“He does from where I’ve been standing,” Yunho said. “I want you to invite him to retire for the night, and say whatever it take to get him to let that gem out of his sight.”

“No!” Zhou Mi protested immediately, watching Kyuhyun go white at the suggestion. There was no way he was allowing that to happen. This was where he drew the line. This was where he let the plan go, and bailed out with Kyuhyun in tow. No matter what it cost him, even if it was their place on the ship, or his friendship with the Captain. Kyuhyun was going into a bedroom alone with Choi over his dead body. 

“I thought …” Kyuhyun mumbled.

Yunho gave them both an exasperated look. “Before the both of you look at me like that, can you just listen to my plan?”

Zhou Mi snapped, “Your plan involves crossing a line that I’m not willing to cross.”

“Listen,” Yunho said.

Kyuhyun gave a small nod. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

Zhou Mi endured a long suffering look from Yunho before he said, “I want you to turn the charms on Choi. I want you to schmooze him or butter him up. I want you to get him to be dying to duck out of the party early. And I really don’t think that’s going to be a problem, because this is the first time tonight he’s taken his eyes off you. It shouldn’t be too hard to get him to agree. What I expect to be a little more difficult is you suggesting that he hand the Eye off. But I know you’ll think of something.”

Zhou Mi muttered, “This plan doesn’t sound any better than I imagined it.”

Kyuhyun gave him a quick glance, then asked, “What happens after that?”

Yunho kindly risked mussing Kyuhyun’s hair for a quick second. “You don’t sleep with him. That’s for sure. You don’t let him touch you any more than you absolutely have to, and that’s not much. You understand, Kyuhyunnie? We’re not having you make that kind of sacrifice for some stupid gem. It’s not worth any part of you.”

Kyuhyun offered a tiny smile and Zhou Mi let out a breath. He almost felt guilty for believing for one second that the Captain would be asking Kyuhyun to do such a thing. The Captain was not that kind of man.

Zhou Mi recapped, “So he gets Choi to take the Eye off, and then what? We hope it gets sent up to the viewing room?”

“If Kyuhyun gets him to take it off, and I have faith he will, Choi will send it up there. Because this gala is about posturing, and if he isn’t going to be here to make a big show of it, he’ll need the Eye to do it in his place. That’s when we make our move. We’ll toss in the sleeping gas, make the switch, and here’s where we cover our tracks.” Yunho looked positively gleeful. “The viewing room has other treasures on display as well, correct?” 

“Many, that I could see,” Zhou Mi answered. “Artwork, jewels, artifacts and such.”

“Good,” Yunho said. “We’ll grab just enough to make it look like those were our goal, and we weren’t stupid enough to try and make a grab for the Eye. We’ll toss everything down the garbage shoot, the Eye being protected, of course, and when the security comes to, the fake Eye will be in place, and they’ll be looking for the wrong items. That buys us more than enough time to get back to the ship without drawing any attention to ourselves.”

Choi was on the move, clearly searching for Kyuhyun. They didn’t have much time.

“What about me?” Kyuhyun wanted to know. “How am I supposed to keep Siwon off me?”

Yunho held up a finger. “You’ll give him exactly one kiss.”

Before Zhou Mi could protest, Kyuhyun’s eyes widened in what looked to be excitement. “Oh!” he exclaimed.

“What?” Zhou Mi demanded.

It was Kyuhyun who said, “That’s when I give Siwon the new and improved version of the Goodnight Kiss. He’ll feel sick within sixty seconds, maybe ninety at the most, and make a beeline for the bathroom. Which, I’m assuming, he won’t come out of until the fake theft is reported.”

Yunho added, “Naturally between his sudden … bowel issues, and the theft, he won’t be able to entertain you anymore, Kyu. You’ll be very understanding, insist upon seeing him again at a later date, and that’s when we recover the Eye, get back to the ship and make a clean get away.”

Choi had spotted Kyuhyun. Zhou Mi could see him streaking towards them, a focused look on his face.

“But wait,” Zhou Mi said, rushing to get the words out, “he can’t give Siwon that kiss until we have the Eye, and we need at least fifteen minutes to make that happen, maybe up to twenty. How is he suppose to buy is that much time before pulling the plug on Choi’s expectations?”

Before Kyuhyun could answer Choi was there, almost groping at Kyuhyun possessively, eyes narrowed as he asked, “I hope there isn’t’ a problem with your … personal security force. I did advise my men to see to it that they’re given whatever they need.”

Zhou Mi did his best to look sick as Kyuhyun leaned into Choi’s touch and said, “One of my supposed bodyguards isn’t feeling well. I’m questioning whether he’ll be able to remain here. He might need to retire for the night.”

Choi’s gaze slid to Zhou Mi as he kept his eyes to the floor. “Your concern for him is … admirable.” It certainly didn’t sound that way, from his tone.

Kyuhyun said haughtily, “I’m attempting to be a bit more charitable.” When Choi laughed, Kyuhyun added, “Actually, I was pondering the same thing myself. The gala is lovely, Siwon, however I’ve never been one for such productions.”

“Are you feeling tired?” Choi asked, pure concern in his tone. “Did you want to retire for the night?”

Kyuhyun put a hand on Choi’s arm, flashing him a bright smile. “I was thinking instead that perhaps we could continue this gala, just you and I. I’d much prefer to have your undivided attention. And maybe you could make due on those promises you made earlier.”

Gods, Zhou Mi wanted to hurl, thinking of the things Choi could have said to him.

“I’m supposed to remain at the gala for at least a few more hours,” Choi said, but there was obvious indecision on his face.

“Let them have their gala,” Kyuhyun pressed, his fingers trailing up Choi’s arm seductively. “And let us have our own.”

“You’re a very difficult man to say no to,” Choi said. But then Zhou Mi couldn’t hear anything else, because Choi was pulling Kyuhyun away, almost a little too frantically. Zhou Mi tracked them as they existed the far double doors and disappeared from sight.

From beside Zhou Mi, Yunho said, “Kyuhyun knows what he’s doing.”

“Are you kidding?” Zhou Mi asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “He has no idea what he’s doing. But he’s doing it anyway, because he thinks he has something to prove, and because he doesn’t want to let us down.”

Putting a hand on Zhou Mi’s shoulder, Yunho said, “Let’s not waste the time he’s given us, then. I know he’ll get the Eye away from Choi. We need to get to the observation room for when it arrives.”

Zhou Mi squared his shoulders and nodded. “But first, we make a pit stop to pick up our supplies. Trust me, we’re going to need all the gas we brought. And then some.”

As they darted from the room, no one seemingly the wiser, Zhou Mi could only hope and pray that Kyuhyun could keep things under his control. Because if Choi touched him, or did anything else, Zhou Mi was going to kill him. And then they’d really be in trouble.


	17. Seventeen: Jaejoong

Jaejoong wasn’t sure what was happening. He wasn’t even sure where he was.

Space? 

Wasn’t he in space? He and … Yoochun … they were trying to reach Rim space. They’d booked passage on a freighter, one with an exhausting Captain who Jaejoong now had serious feelings for. 

Everything else was a little hazy. 

There was something creaking around him, creaking like it was under strain--an immense kind of pressure, and threatening to buckle at any moment. Jaejoong just couldn’t guess what it was. Because when he looked up, all he could see was blackness. Was it the ship? Why would the ship be creaking?

All of his thoughts took a less than priority position a few moments later when he realized how much pain he was in. His body was aching, almost like he’d been through a fight of some kind, and for one brief second he wondered if he hadn’t been completely wrong earlier. Maybe he wasn’t on a ship. Maybe that had all been a dream, one coveted from such a young age, to escape his father and be free. Maybe he was at home, like always, curled up on his bed with Yoochun, trying to wait out the aches from his father’s latest beating. 

Only … the ground underneath him was much too hard for his bed. 

Was he on the floor instead? Had he not even made it to his bed?

And where was Yoochun?

“Hey.”

Someone was hovering over him, and Jaeoong supposed it was at least some kind of small comfort that he wasn’t as blind as he’d first imagined. No, there was some kind of flashing light as well, but it was hardly enough to make out the face of the person above him. He only knew it wasn’t his father, which was a relief.

“You alive?”

Jaejoong blinked a bit sluggishly. “Who …”

Emergency lights. He was somewhere with emergency lights, and even a siren. He could hear it now. There was a steady warning tone that was echoing all around, and after a beat more a second set of emergency lights kicked in, and he could finally see the person nearly squatting above him.

It was the man they’d picked up on the Moon Hub. More of his thoughts and senses returning to him, he was able to recall exactly what had happened from the moment he and Yoochun had boarded the Tohoshinki, all the way to the Moon Hub, Changmin’s injury, and arriving at New Haven. And the person above him was the passenger that was traveling with them until they could drop him of at promising location. 

Xia. His name was Xia. 

And Jaejoong recalled that the man made him extremely nervous. This man, Xia, was the type who spoke volumes with his eyes, was incredibly perceptive, and had a way of looking at someone like he was seeing straight into them. He’d never done or said anything aggressive or threatening to Jaejoong, and in fact they’d hardly seen each other over the past few days, but Jaejoong had made sure to steer clear of him.

“What happened?” 

Jaejoong brought a hand up to the side of his skull where his head was throbbing mercilessly. He must have fallen. He must have hit his head, evidenced by the goose egg he could feel, but thankfully a lack of blood, and he most certainly had a concussion. It was too hard to think and move for it to be anything short of a concussion.

Leaning back a little on his haunches, Xia tapped his cheek almost too roughly and demanded, “You alive? Your brain addled?”

“Stop,” Jaejoong said, pushing weakly at his hand. 

Where was everyone else? It was a slightly comforting thought that if he’d fallen, at least Xia had seen it happen and come to check on him. But where were the others? Where was Yunho who wasn’t nearly as difficult to deal with as Jaejoong had first believed? Where was Yunho who whispered to him about how beautiful he was and fierce and brave, and told him that he was maybe sort of falling in love with him?

Love.

Jaejoong had hardly known love. His patients showed him appreciation. His sister showed him respect. Yoochun showed him compassion, and his father showed him distain. But love? The kind that people held for each other and cherished? That was something completely new to Jaejoong, and exciting. Certainly Jaejoong’s feelings for Yunho were building into something that threatened to be labeled as love eventually, but Yunho was already half in love with him? 

Mouth dry, Jaejoong asked Xia, “Accident?” The walkways were notoriously narrow, and the stairwells were perilous. It was possible he’d just lost his footing. In a few days everyone would be laughing at his clumsiness, and while embarrassed, Jaejoong would brush the whole incident off.

“Well, no,” Xia said, fingers at the side of his neck, counting the beats of his pulse. “I’d say that the explosion that just took out the engine was not an accident, considering I set the charges myself.”

Jaejoong frowned at him. “What?”

With a bruising, harsh grip on his arm, Xia sat him up. The world swam spectacularly and Jaejoong’s vision almost went black again.

“I may,” Xia added, not at all reproachful, “have miscalculated the time it took to extract you from the infirmary. And the Companion had more bite than I expected, for someone who’s brain is boiling in his skull at the moment.”

Jaejoong stilled.

He remembered being in the infirmary with Changmin. Changmin’s fever was still high, but less so than it had been before, and the wound at his stomach was showing signs of improvement already. The ship had lurched, and it had been so unexpected that Jaejoong had nearly fallen. Some of his equipment had. And Changmin had startled, confused and scared and wanting to know where Yunho was.

Jaejoong had reminded kindly, “He’s on New Haven right now? Remember? Your brother is attempting to steal the Eye?”

Changmin had rambled on lowly about the gem for several more minuets, saying things that Jaejoong couldn’t possibly understand, about destiny, the past, tattoos, hope, and even faith. Then the ship had lurched again, and for the first time Jaejoong had worried about the safeness of space travel. An aged freighter wasn’t nearly as safe as the luxurious shuttles his father owned to take them from Helios to one of her orbiting moons.

“You blew up the ship?” Jaejoong asked, horrified at the notion.

Jaejoong hadn’t even seen Xia enter the infirmary. He’d had his back to the door, focused on Changmin, and then suddenly there had been the barrel of a pistol pressed up against his spine and carefully placed words about the trajectory of the bullet and paralysis. 

Xia gave a low chuckle. “Stop being so overdramatic. I merely disabled the engines. I needed to buy us some time, and I needed a good distraction.”

Changmin had lunged. Even in his state, sick and confused, he’d known Xia was a threat. He’d tried to buy Jaejoong time to fight back, or get help. He’d been braver than Jaejoong could ever hope to be.

At least until Xia had shoved him off the bed he’d been laying on and threatened Jaejoong with his life.

“Why are you doing this?” Jaejoong asked, getting awkwardly up to his feet as Xia raised his pistol on him. “I don’t understand.”

The explosion from the engine must have knocked him out. Maybe it had tripped him and that’s what he’d fallen from. They weren’t that far from the engine room.

“You don’t understand?” Xia said, pulling him along far before Jaejoong was ready to walk. “You don’t understand that your father has issued a bounty for your safe return?”

Jaejoong almost fell. He legs twisted up under him and as harsh as Xia’s grip on his arm was, it was the only thing keeping him from eating metal.

“You’re a bounty hunter!”

He was Yoochun’s biggest fear.

Jaejoong’s fear had always been the unknown. He’d wondered what he’d do when he started his new life, if it would be safe, and how long he and Yoochun would stay together. He’d wondered and worried and all of it seemed superficial now that he thought about it. At least compared to the threat in front of him now. Yoochun had always said that if a bounty hunter ever caught up with them, they’d be in the kind of trouble that got people killed.

The explosion. In the engine room.

If Onew had been hurt, Onew who never left his engine room unless absolutely necessary, or anyone else was caught up in the blast, Jaejoong would never forgive himself. This crew had taken him in. They’d protected and sheltered him, offered him a place, and become friends. If they were hurt because of him …

“You don’t understand,” Jaejoong said, not sure where Xia was taking him. “My father--”

“I don’t care,” Xia said sharply.

Jaejoong blanched. “I’m not kidnapped. I willingly left. No one coerced me. I’m not kidnapped!”

If anything, Xia’s grip on his arm was even worse.

“Then you can take that up with your father. That isn’t my concern.”

They were headed down in the ship. Down levels that Jaejoong had hardy ever been. It was unfamiliar territory and the emergency lighting was even worse. 

Xia actual gave a stumble of his own as Jaejoong pulled back on him hard. “I’m a legally mature adult. You can’t do this.”

Jaejoong was expecting to have a verbal spat on his hands. He expected to have to argue his way out of the mess he was currently in. He certainly didn’t expect that with only a second to prepare himself, he’d be sprawled back on the ground clutching his jaw, his face aflame with pain as Xia loomed over him.

“Let me explain something to you,” he said, looking menacing, “I don’t care how old you are. I don’t care that you want to tell me you weren’t kidnapped, or that this has all been a mistake. I don’t care. That’s not my concern. Your father issued a bounty. The Alliance recognized it. I accepted it. Therefore, I retain the right to drag you all the way back to Helios with or without your consent. When I deliver you to your father’s arms, whether they’re loving or not, you can sort out your business then. But I am taking you back, I am going to collect my reward, and you trying to win me over with any kind of a sob story isn’t going to do you a world of good. Do you understand?”

Clutching the side of his face, Jaejoong asked, “You don’t care that you’ll be handing me over to a man who will very likely try to beat me to death for running away?”

Xia arched an eyebrow. “Do you have any idea how much your bounty is worth? I seriously doubt your father is going to kill you, after spending so many credits to get you back.”

“It’s the fact of the matter,” Jaejoong said, being forced back up to his feet by Xia. “It’s a matter of control, that he gets me back. He doesn’t care about wasted credits. He has more than enough to go around. He only cares about squaring things with how he thinks, and he considers me his property. I’m telling you, he’s going to likely kill me.”

They were walking at a rushed pace again before Xia said, “Not my problem.”

Fight, Jaejoong realized. He had to fight. If he wanted to live, he had to fight for himself. While it would have been a nice thing, the idea of Yunho sweeping in to save the day, or even Yoochun, the truth was Jajoong had to help himself. He couldn’t be helpless or dependent. He had to regain control of the situation. And quickly.

“So you’re just doing this for the money?”

Xia didn’t answer him.

Jaejoong tried again, “Or the recognition?”

“You should stop wasting your breath,” Xia advised him. “You can’t talk your way out of this, and you should be advised that your father said he wanted you recovered alive, not in pristine condition. I’ll shoot you in the leg if necessary, and drag your body back.”

He’d have bruises, Jaejoong knew, the size of fingers.

“And I might bleed out before we get halfway there,” Jaejoong said. 

Xia shrugged. “You’ll still be worth something to me then. I guess we’ll just have to see how you prefer to play this then. Cold body or warm body.”

The escape pod. That’s what they were clearly headed towards. The shuttle was gone, ferrying Yunho and Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun down to the plant, but the escape pod was still there, and it was big enough for two. Xia’s plan was all too easy to figure out.

In an act of desperation, Jaejoong threw himself to the side suddenly, arching back unexpectedly to deliver an elbow to Xia’s face. The man howled in pain, but didn’t lose his grip on his weapon, and Jaejoong made a tactical decision to pull back. He had to get to Leeteuk, who knew the ship better than anyone else on board. He’d be able to track Xia down once Jaejoong left him.

Jaejoong had only managed to dash away a few feet by the time Xia recovered, tackling him down to the ground, smashing the air out of his lungs. 

“Bad decision!” Xia shouted at him, crawling up his body to grip the back of his head through a fist full of his hair. “I told you what your options were,” Xia continued, and before Jaejoong could consider what was about to happen, his head was slammed down against the metal grates underneath him.

Once, then twice, and it probably would have happened a third time if a bullet hadn’t suddenly ricocheted dangerously close.

With Jaejoong’s vision swaying dangerously in and out, Xia forced him up onto his knees, the gun placed at the back of his head.

They weren’t alone.

“Drop it,” a heavy voice demanded, and despite the blurriness of his vision, Jaejoong could make out Yoochun in front of them, his own gun leveled up at Xia.

“I think you should drop it,” Xia replied, the gun nudging more forcefully at Jaejoong’s head. “Because there’s no way you’re going to shoot me, knowing that my finger is on the trigger here too. Unless you want to be cleaning up the gray matter of your little friend here.”

Yoochun’s eyes. “I can’t exactly see your finger on the trigger right now. Maybe you’re lying.”

In an almost light hearted voice, Xia assured, “You can come look, if you want to verify. And I very much can assure you that if you shoot at me, I’m going to shoot at him.”

Yoochun fell silent, and Jaejoong could see him thinking. They deliberately didn’t make eye contact.

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

Xia replied, “What gave me away?”

“I guessed,” Yoochun said sharply. “Did you go after Jaejoong because you thought he’d be the easier target? You didn’t think you’d be able to catch me unaware?”

“Truthfully?” Xia asked, seemingly not worried in the least as a different alarm began to blare. Jaejoong wasn’t nearly familiar enough with ships and space travel to know what the second alarm signified, but there was no way it was good. “I didn’t want to touch your bounty. Yours has Alliance fingers smudged all over it. And yes, for the record, I knew it would be easier to take this one here, even if your bounty was worth more the last time I checked.”

Jaejoong’s fingers braced on the ground as he tried to bring his heart rate down. It was dangerously high, almost painfully so. Though wouldn’t that be ironic if he fell over in the throes of a stroke at the moment, and ruined everyone’s plans?

Finally, after so long Yoochun’s eyes flickered to Jaejoong. In one look he tried to say everything, from how sorry he was over being such an easy target, to how much he was willing to risk Yoochun taking a shot. He’d never been quite sure about the night he’d almost fallen to his death--the night Yoochun had helped smuggle him off Helios. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone through with it after all. But right now? Knowing what he’d be going back to? Jaejoong was more than willing to take a bullet to the back of the head, to spare himself from whatever his father would do to him. It would be more humane. 

“But,” Yoochun said slowly, not showing the slightest bit of strain as he continued to hold the gun up, “my bounty is larger.”

Xia must have nodded as he said, “But almost two hundred and fifty thousand credits.”

“Then,” Yoochun said, not an ounce of emotion betraying his words, “I propose a trade. Me for Jaejoong. And I’ll go willingly.”

“No!” Jaejoong shouted, frantic with the thought of Yoochun being returned to his father. Yoochun would be killed as well. Jajoong couldn’t let Yoochun sacrifice himself.

Yoochun ignored him, adding, “And I think you can tell that Jaejoong is prepared to fight you the entire way. If you take me, I’ll go without fuss or a fight.”

There was nothing more said between the three of them, and the only sound echoing was that of the ship’s alarms.

“No dice,” Xia said abruptly. “You’re not worth the extra credits.”

Jaejoong let out a deep breath. At the very least Yoochun was safe for a moment more.

“Then what are we doing here?” Yoochun asked, taking a deliberate step forward. “We’re at a stalemate, aren’t we?”

Xia reached down and once more his bruising fingers were wrangling Jaejoong to his feet.

“Not necessarily,” Xia said. “Because I still think you care more about saving your friend than you do about shooting me. And that’s what this comes down to, doesn’t it? You won’t risk Jaejoong here, which means I win.”

“You’re so confident,” Yoochun said, taking yet another step. He was no more than a dozen steps away. “You think you’ve got me all figured out.”

“I do,” Xia said, and as if to prove his point, Xia began inching them backwards, bringing them ever closer to the escape pod that was now within eyesight.

The ship let out a groan of metal and pressure and Jaejoong wondered if the vacuum of space was about to take care of the situation for them. The ship seemed moments away from imploding around them.

With every step that Xia forced them to take backwards, Yoochun followed.

Yoochun questioned, “You realize that I consider Jaejoong to be my brother, yes? We grew up together. We sacrificed for each other. And I know him better than I know myself.”

“Your point?” 

At the escape pod Xia pressed his finger against the door latch mechanism and stood back as it gave a pressurized hiss. 

“My point,” Yoochun clarified, moving closer than he had ever been, “is that I know Jaejoong would rather die that go back to his father. So now it’s time for you to believe me when I tell you that I’m not letting you take him off this ship. Even if it means him dying, I’m not letting his father touch him even once more.”

Jaejoong could have wept with relief

“Understood,” Xia said, as if he hadn’t needed time to process the words at all. “Then I guess the only barrier between recovering my bounty, and losing it, is you.”

Jaejoong barely even registered the gun barrel being removed from the back of his head.

Then there was just screaming.

It was his own screaming. It wasn’t anyone else, and it was terrifying to realize his own voice could sound so raw and desperate. He was screaming and screaming as Xia unloaded a full clip in Yoochun’s direction, without warning, propelling him backwards and sending a spray of blood arching out to splatter against dark panels of steel.

Jaejoong spun on Xia immediately, throwing wild, random punches, kicking and screaming more, doing anything to keep his mind away from the fact that his best friend--his brother, was likely very much dead now. 

He certainly caught Xia unaware. And for a few blissful moments it almost seemed as if he had the upper hand. 

Then a heavy kick caught him in the stomach, sending him flailing to the side, and the boot driving into his ribs over and over left no doubt that Xia was in control of the situation.

More gun fire. There was more gunfire, but Jaejoong didn’t know where it was coming from, or who was responsible for it. Curled up into as small a target as possible, Jaejoong was unable to look. He was unable to do much of anything. 

“Since we’re all sharing things that we think each other needs to know,” Leeteuk’s voice rang out, and Jaejoong watched as he came up from the other direction, an unflinching expression on his face, “I guess it’s my turn now.”

Xia put a heavy boot down on Jaejoong, causing him to groan at the extra pressure on his ribs. Then he leveled the gun down at Jaejoong and stood silently.

“Firstly,” Leeteuk said, “this ship is my home. This ship is more than just my home. This ship protects my family. And you’ve gone an hurt this ship.”

Xia replied, “By now I’m sure you’re aware of the sizable bounty on the two of them. At least one of them is wanted by the Alliance for questioning, and both of them will get this ship impounded at any checkpoint that you’re forced to run their documentation through. That’s just a hassle on your end. So let me take them off your hands, and spare you any unnecessary complications.”

Leeteuk gave him a disappointed look. “Did you think that was going to work?”

With a small laugh, Xia said, “Okay. Let me have them and I’ll transfer exactly forty percent of the bounty to you.” Something crackled and sparked around them and Xia said, “Something tells me you’ll need the credits for repairs.”

Jaejoong watched as Leeteuk held up two fingers.

Xia made a questioning face. 

“Second,” Leeteuk said, “my family that lives on this ship, the same one that you disabled in an attempt to kill everyone here, means everything to me. And it doesn’t matter how long Yoochun and Jaejoong have been a part of this crew, they’re family now.”

“You can’t be serious,” Xia said blandly.

Leeteuk added, a steel edge to his voice, “I don’t let people touch my family, not when they have greedy, selfish little fingers that are sticky with dubious morality.”

Xia snapped out, “You still have time to save your ship. You let me go now and take Jaejoong, and you can keep her in space. You can’t be completely ignorant and not know that there’s a secondary navigation panel in the engine room. The explosion was meant to be a distraction. And dampen your ability to chase after me. I know the system is still intact.”

“Third,” Leeteuk continued, “the Captain? Yunho? He’s my best friend. And he’s kind of attached to Jaejoong here. I’m personally invested in keeping my Captain happy, so therefore I have a personal stake in keeping Jaejoong here and happy as well.”

“Is there a fourth?”

“There is,” Leeteuk said casually, lowing his gun in a way that boggled Jaejoong’s mind. Was he giving up? What about everything he’d just said?

“But?” Xia’s boot pushed down more harshly on Jaejoong’s ribs and it was like they’d crack and break at any second.

For the first time, and in way that utterly terrified Jaejoong, Leeteuk smiled. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell you what it is. He is.”

He?

Jaejoong turned at exactly the same time as Xia, and it was just in time to see Yoochun crouched on the floor, a winning grin on his face as he said, “You just don’t fuck with family.” Then he was unlashing the whole of the bullets stored in his gun, raining a torrential downpour of metal in Xia’s direction.

The bounty hunter was fast. He was fast and agile, dancing backwards with quick footing to escape the bullets, throwing himself wildly to the side in a way that was too graceful to be anything but practiced. But then he was only human, and Jaejoong saw him stumble, taking a bullet to the chest, one that sent him rearing backwards.

Xia stumbled, gasping loudly for air, red blood rapidly staining his shirt.

“You idiots,” he rasped out. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

“No,” Yoochun said, eyes narrowing. “It looks like you’re the idiot here.”

Yoochun squeezed the trigger of his gun again and Xia was knocked backwards, tumbling into the open escape pod.

He must have struck the launch mechanism inside, because a second later the pod released, taking him far away without any indication as to whether Yoochun had landed a fatal blow or otherwise.

Jaejoong could hardly believe what had just happened.

He could hardly believe Yoochun was still alive.

Wheezing a bit, and sure that he had at least bruised his ribs, Jaejoong scrambled towards him, tears in his eyes. “Yoochun!” There was blood on Yoochun, at his thigh, at his arm, and even at his temple. Jaejoong’s hands scattered across him, trying to assess the damage, even as he had to brace himself as another shutter from the ship sounded.

“I’m okay,” Yoochun insisted, catching Jaejoong’s face between his hands. “Jae. I’m okay. I mean, I’ve got a bullet in my arm, and the one that grazed my leg took out a big chunk of flesh, I think, but I’ll live. Nothing is life threatening.”

Jaejoong let out a huff and a laugh. “You are the luckiest son a of a bitch that I have ever met in my life. What about your temple?”

“Hit it on the way down,” Yoochin said dismissively, and his reaction times seemed to be fine, which meant he wasn’t concussed or going to need more than a bandage or two for the wound. 

“You two okay?” Leeteuk asked, coming to their side and squatting down.

“Thank you,” Jaejoong said, having to hug Yoochun, then Leeteuk just once to reassure himself. “Thank you, Leeteuk. For not letting him take either of us.”

Leeteuk stood slowly holstering his weapon. “I meant what I said. This ship is my home. This crew is my family. And you two are crew. Now, I need to know if either of you can get up and offer any kind of help. We need to get to the engine. We need to know how bad the explosion damaged us, and we’re running out of time very quickly.”

Yoochun grasped tightly to Jaejoong and all but barked out, “Onew was headed to the engine! If there was an explosion there he could be hurt!”

“I know,” Leeteuk said, offering a hand down to Jaejoong first and pulling him to his feet. “That’s why I need to know if either of you can help. If we have to dig him out or worse … Yoochun, you know a bit about ships. If Onew can’t help us anymore, I need you there.”

It was not something that Jaejoong and Yoochun had spoken about with any sort of frequency, but Jaejoong was very much aware of the fact that Yoochun had feelings for Onew that were growing with every day, no matter how reluctant he was to act upon them. It didn’t seem the least bit fair now that Yoochun would have that chance at happiness snatched away from him, all because of one lone bounty hunter.

“What about Changmin?” Jaejoong asked as together he and Leeteuk got Yoochun up on his feet. Injuries would have to wait until the threat of being spaced wasn’t very real. “Xia … he …”

“Changmin’s okay.” Yoochun said quickly as they started off towards the engine room. “I saw him when I went looking for you in the infirmary. He’s still sick, and confused, but he’s okay. He’s fine.”

“We won’t be,” Leeteuk cut in, “if we don’t move a little faster.”

Despite his burning ribs, Jaejoong helped nearly carry Yoochun the entire way.

The explosion that had rocked the engine room had left a good deal of destruction in its path. There were bulkheads crumpled, steel plates torn up, destroyed circuitry, and a whole mess of things blocking the entrance of the engine room.

“Onew!” Yoochun shouted, having to stop and lean against a nearby wall as Jaejoong and Leeteuk tried to clear the path in front of them. “Onew! Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

There was a fire burning somewhere. Jaejoong could smell it, and even more than the ship falling apart around them, the fire was the bigger danger. It was sure to suck up all the oxygen that they desperately needed. They had to get into the engine room where there was an extinguisher. 

A groan nearby made Jaejoong double his efforts, especially when he saw a pale, exposed hand that had been blackened by debris. 

“Leeteuk!” Jaejoong shouted, pointing sharply. “I think I see Onew!”

Onew was trapped under a good deal of metal railing that had fallen on top of him. But he was awake, even if he was blinking lethargically, and he wasn’t reporting an inability to breathe.

“I think I’m just stuck,” he said slowly. “What happened?”

“Onew!” Yoochun, as if he hadn’t been shot several times, barreled past them to drop down next to Onew. He took Onew’s hand in his own and said, “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. There was an explosion but you’re okay. Just hold still and let Leeteuk and Jaejoong get this stuff off you.”

“Okay?” Onew asked, squeezing his eyes shut. “I think that’s a relative term.”

Yoochun chuckled. “Yeah, you’re okay.”

It took several more minutes, but eventually the railing was cleared off and Jaejoong checked Onew’s spine very carefully before deciding, “I think you’re going to have significant bruising, but there’s no damage to your back that I can feel at the moment. I’ll want to run some scans on you later on, but you seem okay. Consider yourself very lucky.”

“Onew,” Leeteuk said, with all the familiarity in the world. “We have to save the ship. We just lost our escape pod, and the Captain has the shuttle. If we don’t save the ship, we’re all going to die.”

Onew was unsteady on his feet, having to rely on Yoochun a great deal, who wasn’t exactly steady either, but they seemed to make it work. They looked to have a sort of counterbalance happening. 

“Get me in there,” Onew said, wiping at some of the soot on his face. “Get me in there and I’ll save the ship.”

If the area outside the engine room was a mess, inside was an absolute disaster. Xia had claimed that the explosion was meant to be a distraction, more than anything else, but it had done plenty of damage. Jaejoong could hardly recognize anything as they plowed forward, determined to get to the secondary navigation unit.

“There!” Leeteuk called out, nudging Jaejoong. “There’s the extinguisher. Get that fire out!”

Jaegjoong gave a firm nod and broke away from the group, ambling his way over fallen bulkheads and crumbled steel. The extinguisher was mercifully intact and within seconds Jaejoong was putting the fire out. Jaejoong choked from the fumes of the extinguisher, but it was better than asphyxiation. 

“The fire is out!” he called over to them, and began the trip back to where the rest of the group had moved further into the belly of the ship’s engine room.

“Here,” Onew said, lowering himself carefully to the ground in front of a panel that was scorched but not damaged. “I just need to pry this off.”

As they waited, Onew’s fingers working quickly, Jaejoong felt his balance tip precariously. It was the oddest sensation, something he’d never felt before, and then his feet were lifting up from the ground.

“Shit,” Leeteuk hissed. “There goes our artificial gravity.”

“Almost there,” Onew said. And he very nearly did have the panel off.

Jaejoong braced himself in an attempt to stop from floating away and asked Leeteuk, “What do those alarms mean?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Yoochun said, accepting the panel from Onew when he broke it free and tossed it to the side.

“Life support,” Leeteuk said with gritted teeth. “One is the warning that we’re off course and not in control of propulsion or navigation, and the other is life support. The air isn’t being recycled now.”

“The explosion?” Jaejoong asked, and Leeteuk only nodded.

Onew whistled out, “Alright. This is good. This is very good.”

“Good?” Yoochun asked, and Jaejoong could see why he’d made such a wry comment in a second. Behind the panel that was supposed to house the secondary navigation was a mess of wires and circuits. Jaejoong knew nothing about ships in the first place, but even if he had, he had a feeling he would have been lost. At least Onew seemed to know what he was doing.

“I need more power,” Onew said, then turned to Leeteuk. “See that piston over there?”

Leeteuk turned to look, then nodded. “Give it a helping hand?”

Onew nodded. “The engine works like a battery of sorts. It’s out of juice right now, so it isn’t feeding power to the system we need it to. We’re going to have to manually get it charged before I can do anything about navigation. But it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“What about me?” Jaejoong asked, desperate to be of help.

“There,” Onew directed. “I need you at the manual override. Leeteuk is about to give us one hell of a jolt. You need to manually let that surge through. The ship’s got safety protocols against something like this, so we have to override them.”

With a nervous chuckle, Yoochun asked, “Aren’t those protocols in place for a reason?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Onew said, a huge grin on his face. “I mean, worst case scenario is that we’ll explode from the sudden rush of energy. That’s got to be better than burning up in atmo.”

“Point,” Yoochun said, retuning his smile. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Jaejoong didn’t miss the look on Onew’s face as he said, “You just stay next to me. That’s exactly where I need you.”

Thirty seconds later Onew twisted two wires together, flipped a switch on his end and was entering numbers into a data pad. 

“Ready?” he asked them all, looking a bit worried for the first time. “I’m manually putting in our orbiting coordinates. We’ll know right away if the engines kick on and we’re thrust out of our decaying orbit. Or if we explode. Everyone know what to do?”

Standing at the manual override Jaejoong took a deep breath. This was it. It had to work. There was no backup plan. There was no second chance.

And more than ever Jaejoong wanted to live.

Now he had a home. Now he had a family.

Now he had something to live for.

Onew shouted, “Leeteuk, fire it up!”

Jaejoong flipped his own override switch, and everything exploded around them.


	18. Eighteen: Yunho

“Focus,” Yunho all but ordered as they swiftly pulled off their clothing and swapped in the standard blue uniform of the hired security force. Yunho was nearly overwhelmed himself, however he thought it was nothing compared to the way Zhou Mi looked.

Maybe it would have been better to bring Leeteuk. 

Zhou Mi had a unique set of skills that were absolutely essential to the job, and if they were backed into a corner he was a power house who could have Yunho’s back and not panic. But having him here with Kyuhyun?

Yunho understood. He wasn’t as callous as Zhou Mi must have thought him. Kyuhyun was precious to Yunho too. But Kyuhyun wasn’t a distraction to Yunho, not like he obviously was to Zhou Mi. 

“I am,” Zhou Mi said, doing up the buttons on the front of his uniform.

“You don’t look it,” Yunho said.

He could practically taste victory. It was so close it was tangible, and no one, not even Zhou Mi, was going to ruin it for him.

“I am,” Zhou Mi said once more, and his fingers stalled. “I’m worried about him, Yunho, but that worry won’t stop me from doing this. Don’t doubt me. Okay?”

Yunho nodded in return. He’d never doubted Zhou Mi before, and now wasn’t the time to start. 

It was just … this was the Eye they were talking about. And this was by far the closest Yunho had ever been to it. It was honestly the closest he’d ever dreamed of getting.

And the Eye meant everything to him. 

It was his hope, and his greatest desire, that obtaining the Eye would put him one step closer to unlocking his past. With the Eye there was a chance, a real chance, that he’d be able to find out where he’d come from, and who his parents had been. He might even be able to find them, if they were still alive, and ask them why they’d given him up, why they’d tattooed him, and what it all meant.

The rumor about the Eye, or maybe just the story that drunk men told each other in bars, was that the Eye was one part of a compass. And the compass, when complete, was supposed to lead to the Vault, where countless treasures of Earth that was were stored. There’d be enough there to set a man for life, Yunho had been interested in the Eye for that reason.

He also had a sinking suspicion, one that he was hedging everything on, that the circular disk he wore around his neck, hidden beneath layers of clothing, that had been with him since before he could recall his name, was the second piece of the compass. The Eye, with any luck, would fit in perfectly, and it would point the way.

In moments of optimism, Yunho could see himself in a year’s time having all the answers to his questions and his crew having all the credits they could ever want. It was a win-win.

“You’re the one who looks nervous,” Zhou Mi said, reaching over to flick a button.

Yunho looked down and realized he’d slotted the wrong button in the wrong hol3. “I’m human, aren’t I?”

Zhou Mi’s eyebrows lifted. “Sometimes I wonder. Yunho, you have to know, you’ve always seemed larger than life to all of us. It’s why we follow you from one crazy scheme to the next. “

“I thought it was because of my winning smile,” Yunho teased.

“It’s your sparkling personality,” Zhou Mi corrected. He cleared his throat just after that and said, “Timing is going to be everything here. We need five minutes to get back to the room and get our gear, and another five to reach the observation area. If we’re ahead of Kyuhyun or behind him in any severe way, things are going to go badly for us.”

“We told him fifteen to twenty minutes,” Yunho said. “He’ll know that’s his window.”

“Okay,” Zhou Mi said, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

They were able to hide their guns fairly easily under their uniforms, though the canisters of gas were slightly more difficult and required a lot of finagling on their part to remain hidden.

By the time they reached the observation room, the uniforms working like a charm, it was nearly packed to the brim with party goers. And there, at the center of it all, was the red gem that haunted Yunho year after year. It was sitting exactly where they’d hoped it would be from the start. 

“He did it,” Yunho said, in absolutely awe of Kyuhyun. “He really got Choi to part with it.”

“Of course he did,” Zhou Mi said a bit boastfully. 

Kyuhyun had come a long way.

When Yunho had first met him, he’d absolutely known that Kyuhyun was the pilot for him. There was no arguing with the kind of intuition a pilot had to have, and Kyuhyun could hear the ship talking to him as if there were actually works spoken. That was something Yunho couldn’t bear to pass up, even if the necessary pilot had come with a bad attitude.

Though in Kyuhyun’s defense, Yunho did think it was important to note that Kyuhyun had only been a child. He’d been fifteen. At fifteen, it had almost been expected that he’d be a little shit who talked too much, ate too much, caused trouble no matter where he went and annoyed Yunho to death. 

There’d always been something a little endearing about Kyuhyun, a diamond in the rough feeling, but it had been hard to imagine back then, when they’d first flown together, that Kyuhyun would be the person he was now. 

Yunho almost felt like a proud parent. 

“What’s the status of the security system?” Yunho asked under his breath.

In a trick that was almost a slight of hand, Zhou Mi produced a slim, nearly invisible data pad from his pocket in which code was flying across at an alarming rate. It was gibberish to Yunho, but it must had made absolute sense to Zhou Mi who stared at it intensely.

“We’re still on a feedback loop,” Zhou Mi said, squinting a little. “But the security system’s AI seems suspicious. It won’t be long before it goes looking for my tampering. We probably have around ten minutes to get this done, then we’re going to be visible to anyone who’s watching a monitor.”

Yunho tapped the gas canister in his pocket. It was time to move. If they didn’t succeed in extracting the Eye before the cameras reverted, there’d be no point in doing anything.

“Ready?”

Zhou Mi leveled up the black box the Eye was expected to fit into. “Ready. Toss the canister.”

Feeling a bit too much jubilation for something that could potentially get them killed, Yunho flipped the pin on the first canister and tossed it directly into the room. He and Zhou Mi ducked away as it exploded, showing the room with sleeping gas which leaked quickly out into the hallway and took out any of the remaining security force members. 

“Thirty more seconds,” Yunho said, eyes on the wristwatch he wore. “Just to be safe.”

With the security task force down, and the camera overlooking them thanks to Zhou Mi’s tampering, it was essentially a smash and grab job. At least for the other jewels on display. As Yunho worked on delicately extracting the Eye from its wired case, the fake ready and waiting to be swapped in, Zhou Mi did his best to make it look like they were inexperienced thieves, grabbing at anything shinny or potentially worth credits.

The watch that Yunho wore beeped at him just as the real Eye was sliding into the box, and the fake Eye was sliding back into the display case. 

“That’s it,” Zhou Mi said, giving Yunho a firm nudge to the shoulder. “We have to get to the garbage shoot. If we miss our window we can’t drop the Eye safely.”

Because of the size of the estate, and increased garbage from the event, Yunho and Zhou Mi had worked out that trash was rotated every twenty minutes. And depending on which rotation cycle they were in, it made all the difference as to where the Eye would end up. Some of the garbage shoots were more accessible than others, and some rotation drops went straight to the incinerator. 

“Then let’s go,” Yunho said, and they were tearing off to the garbage shoot they’d specifically chosen for a later retrieval

Though Yunho did his best not to show it, it was a hard thing to head directly to the garbage shoot and drop the Eye, along with the rest of the jewels, down it. Yunho still remembered so clearly being a young boy, dreaming about the day he’d have his hands on the Eye, and exactly what he’d do with it. Well, now he had the Eye, but there wasn’t even time to stop and admire it. There wasn’t time to even process the fact that it was his. He had to let it go before he could relish in the victory. He had to be patient.

“You’ll see it again soon,” Zhou Mi laughed out as they made the drop, almost as if he were reading Yunho’s mind.

“I know,” Yunho said a bit snappishly then added more kindly, “It’s just hard. I’ve dreamed about it for so long. To just drop it like garbage? It hurts.”

“Well, I’m sure all the credits we’re going to make off it will sooth that pain,” Zhou Mi said, and Yunho decided in that very moment that the next chance he got, when the crew were all safe and sound, back on the ship, he was going to tell them everything. They were more than just a crew he flew with. They were family, and they deserved to know why the Eye meant so much to him. It wasn’t fair and only Changmin got to carry the burden of knowledge.

The very next thing they had to do was swap out their uniforms for the clothing they’d been wearing before. Very shortly Siwon would be getting the kiss of his life from Kyuhyun, and the both the party goers and security guards in the viewing area would wake. There’d be mass confusion, panic, and surely anger on Choi’s part. Yunho and Zhou Mi had to look as if they’d never left the ballroom.

“I can’t,” Zhou Mi said, the second they were sliding into place at the back of the ballroom, the gala carrying on as if nothing had happened, “believe that went as flawlessly as it did.”

“You have to have faith,” Yunho teased. His heart was still beating frantically in his chest, and he was too caught up in thinking about Kyuhyun and Choi, the Eye, and if they’d really be able to get back to the ship without a hiccup of any kind.

“Faith I have,” Zhou Mi said, and it was true that he was likely the most devout of the crew. Changmin hardly counted, especially since he’d been raised by the Companion Guild to be heavily steeped in the traditions of the old gods. Zhou Mi seemed pious and spiritual of his own desire. Yunho kind of respected him for it, but also thought it was a mystery how someone could have faith in the world they lived in. “It’s the luck that usually eludes us.”

It was minutes more before Yunho began to feel as if something was wrong. The worst kind of something.

“He should be done by now,” Zhou Mi said, voicing the fear that Yunho had luring around in his mind at the moment. “It’s been over twenty minutes.”

It had been exactly twenty-two minutes, and this wasn’t something Kyuhyun would have misjudged. This wasn’t something he would have gotten distracted during.

“Something is wrong,” Yunho said, foot tapping nervously. 

Zhou Mi turned to Yunho and said, “I’m going to get him.”

“Mi!” Yunho hissed, but Zhou Mi had a good deal of a head start on him, darting and weaving through the crowd, heading directly towards the double doors that Choi and Kyuhyun had disappeared through.

“Don’t try and stop me,” Zhou Mi said when Yunho caught up with him.

“Then don’t act rashly,” Yunho huffed out. He was certainly feeling just as unsettled as Zhou Mi was, but they’d already pulled off the most difficult portion of the plan. Yunho wasn’t about to let Zhou Mi ruin everything at the very end.

They had minutes, precious minutes, until the bodies they’d left sleeping were discovered, and then all hell would break loose.

“We have to be smart about this,” Yunho said, wrenching Zhou Mi around hard when they were in the hallway, something that afforded them just the tiniest bit more privacy. “This can’t be a mountain we try to storm stupidly.”

Looking flushed in the fact, Zhou Mi demanded, “Then what do we do? If anything, he should have beaten us here. The fact that we’re still waiting for him …”

Yunho slicked a hand through his hair and said, “You still have the estate blueprints?”

Zhou Mi quickly pulled the small data screen from his pocket and drew up the blueprints. “Of course. I was worried that I might get turned around down here.”

Yunho swiped the device from him and said, “Okay, I think it’s safe to say that if Kyuhyun can’t come to us, we have to go to him.”

Zhou Mi tapped his thigh where Yunho knew his pistol was concealed. 

“Now,” Yunho said, doing his best to ignore the fact that if Zhou Mi got within shooting distance of Choi, they were very likely to have an incident on their hands. “Changmin used to tell me that on average a Companion will provide services to their client in a comfortable location of their choice. But considering Kyuhyun likely didn’t have that option, our best guess should be that he allowed Choi to take him towards the residential area of this estate. I think we need to find Choi’s personal rooms. That’s where we have the best chance of finding Kyuhyun. Agreed?”

Zhou Mi’s head bowed next to Yunho as they scrolled through the estate blueprints.

“Here,” Zhou Mi said, finger stopping on a page of the schematics Changmin had provided them from. “And getting there from here shouldn’t be too difficult.”

They ran.

Because Yunho was trying his best to keep calm, but if anything happened to Kyuhyun after Yunho let him take Changmin’s place, it was going to be a blow neither of them could recover from. Hell, Yunho didn’t think any of the crew would be. They’d barely survived losing Joon. Losing Kyuhyun too, would break them.

If Zhou Mi didn’t break Yunho first.

The residential part of the estate, where the private quarters were kept, was a twist of turns and hallways all looking the same. More than once they had to stop and consult the blue prints, and Yunho’s heart was absolutely aching in his chest with how hard it was beating by the time they were sure they were on the right track.

“Hey!” a voice called out, startling them. “You can’t be back here.”

Zhou Mi ground out, “This is not a problem we need, Captain,” as a young security officer jogged towards them.

“This is a restricted area,” the man told them, and he looked young. Very young. Yunho imagined he wasn’t much older than Kyuhyun was.

“You know, we don’t plan on staying long,” Yunho said, throwing an elbow up at him. 

The man collapsed to the ground out cold in a matter of seconds and Yunho watched Zhou Mi’s fingers curl away from the pistol at his side.

Never again, he decided. Never again would he let significant others on jobs together. 

“Come on,” Zhou Mi said, not phased. “We’re almost there.”

They paused just outside Choi’s door, and Yunho’s pulled his own pistol free finally. The hammer was cocked back and he met Zhou Mi’s gaze. “Do not get trigger happy,” Yunho warned him, more afraid that a firefight of any kind could get Kyuhyun shot on accident than anything else. “Or I will leave your ass on this planet and let you deal with the consequences.”

It was an empty threat … mostly … but it was enough to earn a deep, understanding nod from Zhou Mi.

From the other side of the doors they could hear Choi’s voice harsh in tone, severe in words, “You must think I’m an absolute fool. But I’m not as stupid as you seemed to hope I was.”

Yunho pushed through the doors immediately at the words. There was no doubt in his mind that Kyuhyun’s cover had been blown.

Pistol up and at the ready, Yunho tensed at the situation that awaited them.

“Come to join our little party?” Choi demanded, his fingers twisted up in anger and something even more dangerous.

He had Kyuhyun’s back pressed to his chest, a heavy arm around his neck in a way that was cutting off air if the way Kyuhyun was struggling meant anything. And to Kyuhyun’s side a short, inconspicuous knife was pressed. The kind that was usually concealed in a boot or up a sleeve. 

“Let him go,” Yunho barked out. Kyuhyun’s eyes were wide with fear as he strained in Choi’s hold, face red as he gasped for air.

“Go?” Choi demanded, head cocking as if they hadn’t been speaking the same language. “You come into my home, try to pull a fast one on me, and you think I’m just going to let the little mouse I’ve got caught go?”

“If you don’t,” Zhou Mi said evenly from next to Yunho, his own pistol up, “I’ll blow your head off. And trust me, I’m a very good shot. I won’t hit Kyuhyun.”

On the floor Yunho could just make out the small container of gloss that Kyuhyun had been given by Changmin for the kiss with Choi. It was open and clearly looked used, but then why was Choi on his feet and not in the bathroom? Had Kyuhyun not used enough? What had happened?

Choi caught his eye and said, “You can’t honestly believe that a man of my position and wealth wouldn’t be the target of thieves of all kind. You’re not the first to try a Goodnight Kiss on me, in an attempt to rob me. But you’re going to be the last.” He tightened his grip, Kyuhyun gave a cry of pain, and Yunho honestly wasn’t sure how Zhou Mi hadn’t started firing right away.

“Let him go,” Yunho said again. “No one has to get shot.”

“On the contrary,” Choi shrugged.

Yunho knew how the whole situation would play out if something didn’t change immediately. Zhou Mi would shoot Choi, and their victory would be short lived because the nearby security forces prowling the hallways would be drawn in by the sound. They’d see Choi’s body, and there’d be three more joining his in cooling. 

“Where did you find this one?” Choi asked, his nose pressing into Kyuhyun’s hairline. He remarked, “It’s obvious that he’s not a Companion, but he played the role spectacularly. And isn’t he uniquely and sublimely attractive? Did you pick him up at a brothel? One where they keep the pretty boys?”

Zhou Mi let out a low growl.

“Oh!” Choi looked absolutely delighted. “Is this one yours?”

“He’s none of your business,” Zhou Mi ground out.

Choi delighted in pressing Kyuhyun even more fully against himself. “He was my business the moment you attempted to pass him off as a Companion.”

Yunho wanted to tell Zhou Mi to calm himself. He wanted to shake Zhou Mi to his senses and remind him that Choi was only trying to get a rise out of them. The threat was very real to Kyuhyun’s life, but at the moment, Choi was only playing with them.

Once more Yunho’s eyes flickered to the gloss on the floor. “How’d you know?”

“That your boy here was trying to pull a fast one?” Choi laughed. “I don’t know what kind of backwater Rim trash you are, but here in the Core, the latest protection against Goodnight Kisses is available for a select clientele.”

Changmin couldn’t have known. There’s no way he wouldn’t have told them that there was a chance Choi had a counter measure to the kiss. No, Changmin was surely in the dark as much as they were. 

“And,” Choi continued, not at all bothered by how Kyuhyun was coughing between his gasps for air, “that’s really the only thing that gave him away--the attempt to put me down. He absolutely looks the part in every way. He said all the right things, and up until just now, I wasn’t suspicious in the least bit. Actually,” Choi laughed, “I was smitten. Imagine me having to stand here and tell you that I was making all these plans to offer Kyuhyun a long term contract of service, if only to keep him by my side.”

“So we’re at a stalemate,” Yunho said. 

“Maybe,” Choi replied.

Zhou Mi said, “It doesn’t have to be. But if you hurt him …”

Eyes narrowing, Choi demanded, “I want to know what the hell you’re doing here. Why did you come to my gala? Why did you try to pass this boy off as a Companion?”

Yunho couldn’t stop his eyes from widening, or from the shocked, almost disbelieving look h sent Zhou Mi. There was no way. There was absolutely no way.

Choi ….

The look that Zhou Mi returned to Yunho said everything.

They were both extremely baffled, because it seemed as if Choi knew nothing of why they were there, or what they’d done. It didn’t seem possible, but for all intents and purposes, Choi seemed confused as to what their plan was.

“We …” Yunho said, and honestly wasn’t sure how to respond. They couldn’t come outright and say that they’d stolen from Choi, but neither was it something that could be hidden now. Choi would suspect them immediately when the first report came in of theft, and it was looking like a shootout was their only way off the planet--if that was even possible.

They’d be ID’d, too. It was Yunho’s one regret. There was no way Choi wouldn’t eventually identify them and alert the Alliance. That would mean they’d have to run to the Rim and lay low for a while, maybe even a long time. Changmin would be disgraced, but Yunho had seen the real love on Minho’s face at their parting. The wedding would still happen---Yunho just wouldn’t be there to see it. If fact, it might be years and years before he even got to consider seeing Changmin again.

“I want to propose a deal,” Zhou Mi said, gun lowering as he moved closer. “And this is something you’re going to want to hear.”

Yunho tried not to look at how Kyuhyun’s face was starting to go slack, his eyes closing as he lost the fight for air.

“Deal?” Choi asked, and he was caught off guard just enough that Kyuhyun was able to sneak in a bit more air. He wheezed loudly and Yunho couldn’t begin to understand where Zhou Mi was going.

Zhou Mi holstered his weapon and said, with absolute clarity, “I’ve been poking around in your security system. And you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve found, stored away on seemingly protected servers. I’ve even found things that you thought were gone for good.”

Choi didn’t seem phased. “Is that supposed to be threatening?”

“I know about Noore,” Zhou Mi said, and Yunho could have sworn that he was the one being choked.

Noore. The Companion that Changmin swore Siwon had been directly responsible for the events leading up to her death. Changmin had sworn Choi had roughed her up, and in response she’d been planning to report him. But a shuttle accident had taken that out of the equation, and Choi had been allowed to continue to use the Companion’s Guild.

Even Choi looked a little hesitant now. “Noore.”

“Security footage, even when you delete the recording, scramble the data and try to cover it up as if it was never there in the first place,” Zhou Mi said, “leaves a trail. It’s like a phantom footprint. And if you know where to look, someone who’s skilled enough can recover the data. And I saw you. I saw what you did to her.”

Choi released his grip on Kyuhyun even more. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Zhou Mi asked. “Let me tell you, you’re a real piece of work. What you did to that girl … and what you thought you could get away with.”

Yunho found his voice again and added, “The Companion’s Guild couldn’t touch you, no matter how responsible they suspected you were. You are a very powerful man, Choi. It would take actual proof to do any kind of damage to you. But if we leaked a certain video to not only the Alliance, but also the net itself, there’d be no hiding behind your money. Even you couldn’t dodge a bullet like that.”

“So,” Zhou Mi posed, “my deal is looking better and better, isn’t it?”

“Deal,” Choi spat the word out. “The data for the boy?”

Zhou Mi nodded. “I think the Companion’s Guide would pay a pretty hefty amount of credits for proof concerning what happened to Noore. And as you so eloquently pointed out, we’re just some backwater Rim trash. We’d do it in a heartbeat to make a few credits. But we’re not without compromise. You give us Kyuhyun, and safe passage off your planet, along with the guarantee that you won’t so much as breathe a word of our existence to anyone else, and in return the data disappears. No one ever has to know that it was retrievable in the first place.”

Yunho wondered if this was something akin to making a deal with the devil.

If they were better men they wouldn’t even be considering such a deal. Noore had been Changmin’s friend. Getting justice for her was important to him, but they were about to sell away that chance for Kyuhyun. For themselves. For the Eye.

Zhou Mi didn’t look for a second as if he regretted suggesting something of the nature, and Yunho supposed that was what love did a to person. Love compromised morals, if a person had any to begin with. And the whole situation made Yunho wonder if he’d be making the same proposition if Changmin had been in Kyuhyun’s place. Would Zhou Mi had still played the same trump card? Would it have been Yunho instead?

“And I just have your word that you won’t attempt to blackmail me in the future?” Choi asked.

Zhou mi clarified, “I’ve already erased the original data from where I found it ghosting. I have the only copy of it at the moment. As long as we leave quietly, and you never open your mouth about us being here, and footage will never surface. I’d say that’s a fairly even playing field in terms of having things on each other.”

Before anything else could be said, there was the clattering of boots in the hallway and Choi’s communication’s device across the room was going crazy.

Yunho thought it was safe to say that the observation room had been discovered, and the missing jewels.

“Make your decision,” Zhou Mi said, a hand out for Kyuhyun. “Give me Kyuhyun and keep your freedom, or end up in a penal colony along side us, where I promise you one of us will make you pay for touching him.”

The doors to Choi’s room slammed open and just as the first of the security came through, Choi released Kyuhyun.

Crashing down to his knees Kyuhyun braced both hands on the ground and hacked loudly, drawing in huge lungful of air, shoulders shaking.

Zhou Mi knelt by him in half a second, wrapping a comforting arm around him, and Yunho could hear him whisper, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Sir,” one of the men called out, all of them skidding to a stop to take in the scene before them. It must have looked completely confusing to anyone who hadn’t just been a part of the conversation. “There’s been a … is there a problem here?”

In irritation Choi tossed the knife to the side and demanded, “What’s happening?”

Yunho carefully holstered his pistol as the security officer said, “There’s been a robbery--in the observation area. Several pieces of the Tossi-Theroux collection are gone, and almost the entirety of the Minister’s diamonds.”

Choi’s eyes cut to them and Yunho arched an eyebrow. Choi thought it was them. Choi was also clearly weighing his options still.

“The Eye?” Choi asked, and Yunho had no doubt that was a deal breaker.

“Safe,” the man relayed. “It was safe in its case. Whoever stole the other gems, didn’t want to risk taking that.”

There was only the tiniest twitch on Choi’s face, something that barely gave him away, but it was enough to reassure Yunho.

They were in the clear.

“Set up a perimeter and lock down the area,” Choi said, almost so lazily that he was probably doing it just for show. “I’m on my way.”

The majority of the security force turned to follow his orders, but the man leading the charge was eying them again, and he pressed, “Are you certain you’re okay here?”

Zhou Mi helped Kyuhyun up to his feet as Choi said, “My guests have been called away unexpectedly. They’ll need to leave immediately. See to it personally that they don’t dawdle.”

Choi strode past them with thundering footsteps and Yunho watched him go. 

“Come on,” Zhou Mi said, his arm still around Kyuhyun. “We should go now.”

Yunho gave a silent nod. They needed to get back to the shuttle and pick up the Eye. 

And frankly, the Choi Estate was starting to give Yunho the creeps. It was an impossible thing that they had managed to salvage a situation gone bad, and the Eye was within their grasp again, Choi none the wiser. 

If Yunho were a betting man, he’d be wagering everything he had on his luck of the moment. 

In the twenty minutes it took to get to the shuttle, no one said a word. Kyuhyun breathed in loud gasps, his throat already promising to bruise, but other than the sound of the transport taking them to the shuttle, there was nothing else.

Once on board Kyuhyun all but collapsed into a seat and Yunho squatted next to him. “You doing okay, Kyuhyun?”

In the pilot’s chair Zhou Mi fired their engines up right away, flipping switches and readying them to break atmo.

“Fine,” Kyuhyun whispered, voice rough. “Sorry … I …”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Yunho said firmly, then slid into the chair next to him. “You did exactly what you were supposed to. None of us had any way of knowing Choi would be prepared for any sort of trick. You did good, Kyuhyunnie. You did good.”

“Captain,” Zhou Mi called over his shoulder, pulling back on the controls to lift them off the ground and into the air. “I’m getting a strong reading from the box. We’ll be on it in five minutes. Maybe less.”

Yunho leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Do you want me to fly? You can come sit back here with Kyuhyun.”

“No,” Zhou Mi said quickly, his voice tight and tense. “I need to … concentrate on something else.”

Yunho sat back in his seat as the shuttle angled towards where the Eye was waiting for them. “It’s not your fault either,” Yunho said, though he wasn’t sure Zhou Mi heard him. He desperately hoped Zhou Mi didn’t try to blame himself for anything that had happened to Kyuhyun. Or cling to tightly to the fact that he’d had to let Choi walk free. 

It was a simple thing to extract the Eye from where it had been resting amidst garbage, and with it came the other jewels they’d swiped to cover their theft of the Eye.

Yunho held up a dangling sapphire on a white gold chain and asked, “I was thinking of giving this to Changmin as a wedding present. What to you guys think?”

With the shuttle shaking as they cleared atmo, Kyuhyun reached over deliberately and put the chain around his neck. From the front of the shuttle Zhou Mi let out of the first easy laugh Yunho had heard from him in days, if not more.

“Okay,” Yunho said, shaking his head. “It’s yoursm Kyuhyun. You win.” He really deserved it.

“Leeteuk?” Zhou Mi called over the radio as the stars came into view. “It’s Mi. We’re on our way. The package is secure and everyone is present and accounted for.”

In his lap Yunho looked down at the black box. He, oddly enough, couldn’t bring himself to open it just yet. It was overwhelming knowing what was in it, and what it meant for not only himself, but for the whole crew.

The Eye. He had the Eye.

“Leeteuk?”

Yunho’s fingers shook as he ghosted over the top of the box. 

“Captain,” Zhou Mi said sharply. “I think we have a problem.”

The shaking of clearing the atmosphere was gone in another few seconds and Yunho undid his restraints to stand. He set the box on the seat he’d just vacated and made his way to Zhou Mi’s side.

“What kind of problem. Mi, we just had the problem of all problems. I don’t want to hear you say there are more.’

Yunho startled at the look in Zhou Mi’s eyes. 

“I can’t get Leeteuk on the radio,” Zhou Mi said.

“Bring us up on the ship,” Yunho said. From the angle they were at it was impossible to see the Tohoshinki. She was in too high an orbit, but they were minutes away from docking. “Looks like there’s another thing to add to the fix-it list.”

Yunho leaned himself on the back of Zhou Mi’s chair and sighed. He was so tired. He just wanted to crawl into his bunk and sleep for several days. And maybe, if he played his cards extremely well, he could convince Jaejoong to crawl in next to him.

Yunho wasn’t much a cuddler, probably a remnant of so many year spent with Changmin who was very much not affectionate by nature. But Jaejoong sort of made Yunho want to be one. And there was nothing better he could think of than pulling his heavy duvet over his head with Jaejoong’s warm body next to his and simply laying there.

“Bring us up on her,” Yunho said again.

He was seconds away from returning to his seat when Zhou Mi said in a shaky voice, “We’re right in front of where she’s supposed to be.”

Air caught in Yunho’s lungs. “What?”

Zhou Mi let out a deep exhale. “We’re right in front of where we left the ship. She’s … not here.”

Yunho leaned over to check their coordinates. Zhou Mi was right. They were in the right place. It was the Tohoshinki that was missing.

“Captain?” Kyuhyun asked, pale in a way that made Yunho want to tell him to lay down.

“Maybe Leeteuk had to move her for whatever reason,” Yunho said, trying to rationalize the lack of ship. Yunho absolutely trusted Leeteuk with the ship.

“There’s something else,” Zhou Mi said.

“What?” Yunho said dismissively, checking over the readings on the display in front of him.

Zhou Mi swung towards Yunho, looking as if the world had ended. It was such an odd look, and one that was absurdly unnatural on Zhou Mi. 

“Captain,” Zhou Mi said. “The ship is gone. But there’s …”

“There’s what?”

Zhou Mi’s eyes turned to the window of the shuttle and pointed. “Wreckage.”

The world fell out from under Yunho in that moment as he stared out into the black void, huge chunks of charred metal staring back.


	19. Nineteen: Changmin

The moment the connection had gone through, and Changmin had seen Minho’s face on the screen, such a rush of happiness had pulsed through him that it had almost been too overwhelming. It had only been two weeks since they’d parted, but to Changmin who was desperately in love, it felt like years.

“Changmin,” Minho sighed out, a fond smile on his face. “There you are.”

In the privacy of the ship’s bridge, Changmin let himself smile a bit goofily and reply, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Sudden concern flashed across Minho’s face. “Uh oh. That can’t be good.”

“What’s not? That I find you attractive?”

“No,” Minho said back playfully, “that you’re being so emotional. The Shim Changmin I know doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like he is now.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Changmin asked back.

The pilot’s seat … Kyuhyun’s seat, was padded graciously, and Changmin sank into the cushions. The slouched position, something that he almost never let him fall into, afforded him a more casual look at Minho.

Minho, who was so damn good looking any other time, but was even more attractive now, after some time had passed between them being together.

Changmin supposed the saying was true. Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

On the other end of the connection Minho leaned forward and said, “Min, you promised me you’d contact me much sooner than this. I thought that was our deal? I give you all the support in the world to run off with your slightly unhinged older brother, and in return you keep me up to date on how you’re doing.”

Changmin grimaced. “Things got complicated.”

“I worried,” Minho said right away. “I worried a lot. You make promises to me frequently, but you rarely break them. I thought something had happened.”

Something had happened. A lot had happened. Changmin just wasn’t sure what he could say to Minho and what had to be kept quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Changmin said, his eyes drifting off to the stars in the distance. “I didn’t mean to worry you. When I say complicated, I mean complicated. I wanted to contact you much sooner.”

With an accepting nod, Minho asked, “Bad complicated?”

Changmin absolutely wasn’t going to share with Minho that he’d been shot. Minho was a worrier. He worried over anything and everything, but mostly he worried about Changmin himself. Changmin certainly wasn’t in need of the worry, and it was a burden most of the time, but he understood the hovering that Minho showed him was derived from love. So he accepted it. 

But telling Minho he’d been shot? And then that the wound had become infected and he’d lapsed in and out of consciousness for several days afterwards? That wasn’t an option in the slightest.

However Minho was waiting now, waiting for something from Changmin. He had to say something.

“Remember how I told you my brother’s sort of a … treasure hunter?”

Minho snorted. “Is that what we’re going to call the illegal acquisition of items?”

“Minho.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m not judging your brother, Changmin. I don’t care what he does frankly, as long as he doesn’t get himself into trouble and expect you to bail him out. But I am going to have a problem if anything he does hurts you … and the look on your face tells me that something like that’s gone and happened.”

“It wasn’t Yunho’s fault,” Changmin said, of that he was sure. Though honestly Changmin wasn’t sure of anything else. When Yunho had left, with Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun to hopefully recover the Eye, Changmin’s fever had been rising. He actually remembered very little of anything that had happened, even the series of explosions that had rocked the ship and nearly torn her apart. His memories didn’t kick in until a few days after that, when he’d woken up, his fever had broken, and Leeteuk had calmly sat next to him on his bed to try and explain everything that had happened.

A bounty hunter. That was just something of monumental bad luck.

Calmly, Minho asked, “What happened? Does it have something to do with how long it took you to contact me?”

“It does,” Changmin said, still trying to work out exactly what he was going to say. Eventually he settled on, “Yunho and I ended up separated. He went down to the planet for business and I stayed on the ship. But there was an … accident. Well, to put it more bluntly, there was an explosion and the ship suffered some significant damage.”

“But you’re okay, right?” Minho demanded, eyes growing wide. “What happened to cause an explosion?”

Changmin only really knew what Leeteuk had told him. He knew that Xia, the bounty hunter who’s real name was Junsu, had disabled the navigation system to draw everyone, but in particular Onew, away from the engines. Then he’d rigged explosives to intricate and necessary systems in the engine room, everything from propulsion to life support. The explosion had more than crippled the ship. It had nearly destroyed it. 

“I’m okay,” Changmin assured. “And who can say what caused the explosion. Onew, that’s the ship’s mechanic and engineer, isn’t sure yet. But if you ask me it has something to do with how old the ship is. It’s way past its best days. I wish Yunho would let me help him buy a new one.”

Yunho was just too damn stubborn and prideful for that, no matter how hard Changmin pushed.

Minho muttered, “Maybe I’ll just buy your brother a new ship, especially if it means I won’t have to risk it blowing up with you inside it.”

Something told Changmin that Yunho would be even less receptive to Minho buying him a new ship.

“Anyway,” Changmin continued, “the explosion was pretty bad. A couple of the crew got hurt, and we lost everything from navigation to power. I guess it was more than bad there for a second, but Onew is a miracle worker. He got the ship jump-started, essentially, but that flung us pretty off course, and our fuel cells were nearly depleted.”

Everything had needed to be conserved. Everything. Changmin had woken to a dark infirmary, where the air felt a little too thin, and the artificial gravity kept cutting in and out. Changmin had been confused, to say the least.

“And this is you telling me you’re okay now?”

Changmin gestured around him. “Lights are on full power. You can’t feel it, but the engine is humming under my feet, and while I have no doubt that the ship needs some extensive repairs, we just left the port we’d limped our way into. We’re back flying, Minho. Everything is okay now.” Changmin grit his teeth. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Changmin sunk a little deeper in the chair. 

Once more, the stars caught Changmin’s attention. He spent so much of his time staring up at them, but they’d never looked brighter than they were now. It seemed ironic, because Changmin had never been as lost as he currently was. 

“I was on the ship, remember? When it was catapulted through space, for lack of a better word. Yunho was left on the planet, and the rest of us were srnt floating through space, trying to survive. Yunho … we could barely help ourselves. We couldn’t help him. We couldn’t even get to him.”

Minho asked, “So you had to leave him behind? While you tried to make repairs to the ship?”

Changmin gave a soft nod. “I don’t want to scare you, but we cut it pretty close with the fuel cells.”

Cutting it close didn’t even begin to explain the situation they’d been in. For nearly two days they’d drifted through space, trying to squeeze power out of a damaged engine, trying to keep the life support system going, trying not to think about how close the hull had come to buckling.

“See?” Minho asked with forced cheer. “This is why I hate space travel. Something always has to go wrong. Min, I’m sorry to tell you, I think the rest our lives is going to have to take place planet side.”

“Minho,” Changmin said, thinking about how long he’d known Minho, and how absolutely dependable the man was. He thought about how Minho always came through for him, and was beyond trustworthy. 

Changmin probably could have told Minho everything, including everything he knew about the job Yunho had just pulled which involved stealing the Eye out from under Choi Siwon. He could have told Minho every last detail, and Changmin had a gut feeling that Minho wouldn’t have done anything but kept the information to himself and done what he could to help.

Minho was upstanding in that way. 

It was the single most impressive thing about him, his loyalty, and it was what had won Changmin over from the start.

Once more he said, “Minho,” then he tucked a leg under his bottom and added, “I need your help.”

The image of Minho was a little distorted, but the earnest look on his face wasn’t. He jokingly asked, “You are clear on the fact that I love you? That we’re getting married? That’s ringing a bell?”

“Yes,” Changmin said with a slight frown. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m saying,” Minho replied, “that we’re about to become partners. I mean, I already consider us partners, which makes anything you need, something you don’t have to ask for. How can I help?”

Changmin’s chest seized up a little. “I really love you,” he said, and it was the best feeling in the world. 

The smile on Minho’s face grew wider. “I love you too. Now, what do you need?”

“Yunho,” Changmin said immediately. “The ship’s communications went down with all the other major systems when we lost control. We couldn’t contact Yunho on the planet, or the crew that were with him, and we didn’t exactly have a choice in leaving them. By the time we got our communications back up, all traces of Yunho on the planet were gone. He’s … we can’t find him anywhere, Minho. We can’t find out what happened to him.”

Minho blanched. “You haven’t received so much as a message from him?”

“No,” Changmin said. For all intents and purposes, Yunho had up and vanished into thin air. And hunting for him on New Haven wasn’t an option at the moment. 

Minho questioned, “How far adrift did you end up? Are you that far from the planet you left him on?”

“We ended up in the middle of nowhere,” Changmin told him. “Our navigation was down, so we weren’t even sure where we were, or what was near. Onew worked himself to exhaustion, trying to get the most important systems back up. By the time knew where we were, we only had enough fuel to get to the nearest repair port. We had to go in the opposite direction, and we still haven’t been able to make it back there. I tried contacting the planet, I tried reaching Yunho through his personal comm. I tried everything. I can’t find my brother, Minho. That’s what I need your help with.”

From Minho’s end a voice called his name faintly. Minho called back, “I’ll be there in a second. I’m speaking to Changmin.” Minho shot Changmin an apologetic look. “Sorry. That’s Seoyoung.”

“Tell your sisterI’m sorry I missed her,” Changmin said. 

Minho waved a hand. “She already told me she expects you to make it up to her the second you’re back. And she’s about to be your sister, too.”

Changmin admitted fondly, “I guess she is.”

“Changmin.”

“Minho?”

The kindness in Minho’s voice alone was enough of a comfort to make Changmin feel like there was something Minho could do. Anything. Even if it was just listen. 

“Didn’t you tell me all those weeks ago that you were going to New Haven?”

Changmin agreed, “That’s where Yunho was left behind on accident.”

Minho grit his teeth. “That planet all but belongs to the Choi family.”

Changmin pursed his lips, then took a risk and said, “Yunho wasn’t on that planet for a social call, Minho. He was doing something that could get him sent to a penal colony if caught … if he was very, very lucky.”

Tersely, Minho said, “Stealing from a man like Choi Minho is about the stupidest thing your brother could choose to do.”

“Could you maybe say that a little louder?” Changmin demanded. “Not enough people on Helios heard you.”

Minho chuckled, “There’s my Changmin.”

Feeling quite peeved, Changmin said blandly, “I don’t think this is funny at all, Minho. Yunho could be--”

“Changmin.” Minho leaned even closer to screen. “I know you love your brother, even when he does stupid things. And I’m very much in love with you, with plans to marry you shortly. That makes Yunho family. Give me some time, okay? Let me see if I can dig up anything on him. I’ve got some friends in that area. Maybe they’ll be able to do in person there, what you or I could never accomplish from where we are.”

“Thank you,” Changmin said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “Thank you, Minho.”

“He’s family now,” Minho replied with a shrug. “But while I’m helping you track down my soon to be brother in law, can you please contact me a little more frequently? You’re exceptionally good at getting yourself into trouble when you want to, and I know it drives you crazy, but I worry.”

“I must get that sense of trouble from Yunho. He’s a master at it.” Changmin wiggled his fingers at Minho and promised, “I’ll call you again soon. I promise. And thank you again, for helping me and doing this for me.”

“I love you,” Minho said once more. “And I can’t wait until you get back here. Life is boring without you, Changmin. Too boring. Talk to you soon.”

The screen went back in response to the ended communication and Changmin tried to be reassured that things would be okay. Minho wasn’t a miracle worker, but he was the kind of man who went above and beyond. Yunho had to be okay wherever he was. It was just a matter of finding him.

“Am I interrupting?”

Changmin spun the pilot’s chair towards Leeteuk who was lingering in the door way.

“No, no, of course not.”

Leeteuk took a step forward. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call. I know it’s the first time you’ve gotten to speak with your fiancé since we left Helios. Everything’s okay on his end?”

“You’re considerate to a fault,” Changmin said, really appreciating Leeteuk’s propriety. “Minho’s fine. He was worried that I’d taken so long to contact him, but I explained we had a bit of a mechanical issue.”

“That’s saying the least,” Leeteuk said with a hoarse laugh.

Changmin nodded. “I told Minho we lost Yunho. Don’t worry, I didn’t give him any details that might endanger him or us, but I asked him for help. Minho’s father has quite a few Alliance ties. If anyone can help us find Yunho faster, it’s him.”

“I don’t know if getting the Alliance involved is what we need right now,” Leeteuk said a bit wearily, sinking into the chair opposite Changmin.

Shrugging, Changmin told him, “I think it’s safe to say that Yunho and the others succeeded in stealing the Eye. If they hadn’t, it would be on the net from the Core to the Rim. He’s got it, Leeteuk, we just have to find a way to get back to him, and I think Minho can help. He can reach where we can’t right now, and I think he’s trying to earn points before the wedding. Minho is … he cares a lot about family, and Yunho is about to become his.”

A slow grin spread out on Leeteuk’s face, one filled with fondness. “ I still can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“I’m not exactly a little boy anymore,” Changmin reminded.

“No,” Leeteuk agreed, “but I think your brother and I are more alike on this matter than you want us to be. I still see you as this scrawny spitfire of a kid, Changmin. I know you’re grown. I know you’re old enough and mature enough to get married, but it just seems so sudden. Your childhood feels like yesterday, Changmin.”

Changmin leveled him with a heavy look. “I’m really scared for the day you have children, Leeteuk. You’re going to think of them as babies forever.”

This time Leeteuk gave a deeper, more satisfied laugh. “Probably. But I think that day is very far off in the future.” He got himself back to his feet and leaned over to check the readings on the display in front of him. “Anyway, I came up here to let you know that Jaejoong’s looking for you.”

Changmin’s face twisted into a sour look. “Another checkup?”

“Yes,” Leeteuk said, rolling his eyes. “I think you should forgive him for being a little overprotective of this crew right now. You were …he was really worried about your fever. And then almost everyone ended up hurt in some way after the bounty hunter tried to abduct him. He’s tapped ribs, stitched cuts, and bandaged wounds. That’s a little overwhelming, don’t you think? So let him look you over one more time and make sure that you’re okay.”

“I am okay,” Changmin said. Since he’d woken two days previous, his fever broken and able to think for the first time in a while, he’d been making leaps and bounds in his recovery. His wound was still a little red and agitated, but he was able to walk around on his own, climb stairs if he did it slowly, and his fever hadn’t returned. He only needed rest and he’d be fine by the time they got back to Helios.

Of course the bullet wound at his stomach, one that had almost taken him completely out, was a scar he was going to have to explain to Minho very delicately the next time they tumbled into bed.

Changmin sort of hoped that would happen the moment they were together again.

“Can’t Jaejoong just fuss over Yoochun some more?”

“I’m sure that’s Onew’s department now,” Leeteuk said. “And he is fussing. Yoochun ended up with a bullet in his shoulder and damn near the same in his leg.”

Turning his back to the blackness of space completely, Changmin stood gingerly. “Well, at least Onew doesn’t seem too sad anymore. Maybe Yoochun is the distraction he needs to try and move on with his life. No matter how much it hurts to move forward, we can’t live in the past.”

Leeteuk nodded in agreement. “But try not to tease them too much about it? I can tell, Onew is barely okay with the idea of trying to care for someone else in that way, and Yoochun’s spent his who life hiding from people. They need time to work their feelings out on their own.”

“I’m not Kyuhyun,” Changmin pointed out. “I’m not …”

Strongly, Leeteuk told him, “We’re going to find Yunho, Kyhyun and Mi. They’re not lost forever, Changmin. Don’t give up.”

Changmin made his way steadily to the doorway, still having to brace a hand ever few steps, getting winded too easily. “I’m not, Teukkie.”

Changmin was getting married. He was making the biggest commitment of his life to another person, and he wasn’t doing it without his brother and best friends there to watch.

It was frustrating in a way with how long it took for Changmin to make his way to the infirmary. What would have been a two minutes wal before, less if he was quick about it, turned into something approaching fifteen … if he was being generous. 

But he took his time, listening the steady hum of the ship, feeling her under his feet and against his skin every time he touched metal. It was the reassurance he needed at the moment, after they’d come so close to ending up spaced. That and if he came into Jaejoong’s infirmary breathing hard or sweating, it was possible that Jaejoong would just use it as an excuse to try and readmit him.

That was happening over Changmin’s dead body. He’d spent enough time in the infirmary to last him the rest of his life.

“I’m here,” he announced, sliding through the cracked doors to find Jaejoong and Ryeowook chatting easily. 

“Good,” Jaejoong said, springing into action. He told Ryeowook, “We can talk more about this over dinner, okay? I need to see how much Changmin’s gone and aggravated his healing wound.”

Ryeowook smothered a laugh behind a hand as he disappeared through the doors.

“Funny,” Changmin sighed, slowly heaving himself up on the examination bed. 

“Shirt up,” Jaejoong requested, slipping his hands into gloves. 

Changmin leaned back on the bed and lifted his shirt over the tapped off wound. “I really do feel fine,” he told the doctor. “The pain is more than manageable, and I haven’t had to take anything today yet.”

Jaejoong’s fingers were cool and gentle as they prodded the area. “Contrary to what you must think about you being a inable to sit still, I always knew you were going to heal quickly. When you’re a doctor long enough, you start to be able to tell quickly enough with different patients. And right now I can tell you that the wound looks even better than I could have expected.”

Changmin couldn’t help feeling a little relieved. “That’s good to hear.”

“Actually,” Jaejoong said, looking a little guilty, “I didn’t just ask to see you because I wanted to check you out. There’s something else.”

“Shoot,” Changmin said easily enough, watching as Jaejoong resealed the bandage on his wound.

In a frustrated way, Jaejoong said, “No one ever tells me anything. I guess I’m just the doctor. Changmin, I want to know about Yunho.”

Changmin froze. Of course Jaejoong wanted to know about Yunho. Jaejoong cared for Yunho, and before New Haven their tentative relationship had been on the fast track. Changmin tried to imagine what it was like for him at the moment, not knowing if the person he cared for was okay, or what they were doing.

“You know we didn’t choose to leave him behind, right?”

Jaejoong gave a firm nod. “We didn’t have any control over how far we got flung into space, and we were so damaged we couldn’t go back for him.”

Sitting up with Jaejoong’s help, Changmin settled his shirt back into place and told the doctor, “Yunho is a worrywart. He plans for the worst all the time, and he and Leeteuk had an agreement for if anything went wrong during the job.”

“Plan? What kind of plan?”

“If we get separated,” Changmin clarified. “The rule on this ship is that if anyone ever gets separated, based on where we are and in which system, there’s a rendezvous point. That’s why Onew’s been working so hard to get the engines up and going. It’s why we’ve been conserving power like crazy and flying even when the Tohoshinki should probably be dry docked planetside for repairs. Because Yunho knew that if we had to leave for whatever reason, that we’d be waiting for him at the meet up point.”

There was at least some relief on Jaejoong’s face. “So it’s possible Yunho and the others are already there?”

“Very,” Changmin nodded. “Even if they aren’t, Yunho will know to go there. We’ll wait until he gets there.”

The worrying part, and why Changmin had enlisted Minho’s help, was the lack of communication from Yunho. They’d had communications up on the ship for almost a full day. Why hadn’t they heard from Yunho yet? There was no reason that Changmin could think of as to why Yunho had been silent on his end. Nothing he tried to come up with made any sense, either. 

“Is it far?” Jaejoong asked.

“A few days more,” Changmin told him. Then he frowned and said, “This isn’t exactly secret information, Jaejoong. You should just ask if you want to know. You’re a part of this crew. Yunho thinks of you as family now. And I think you proved your worth a few times over.”

Jaejoong offered a bit tentatively, “I have to admit, I was surprised Leeteuk helped stop the bounty hunter. Did you hear about what happened?”

Changmin nodded. “Leeteuk was the distraction so that Yoochun could get to his gun. The bounty hunter wanted to make a deal, but Leeteuk said no.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed Leeteuk if he had taken the deal,” Jaejoong said a little sadly. “We haven’t known each other all that long. The bounties on myself and Yoochun aren’t ever going to just magically disappear. And we were talking about a lot of credits--enough to keep the ship running for a long time, or get a new one. If Leeteuk had needed to make that call … I would have understood.”

Changmin pinched Jaejoong a little sharply on the arm. “Okay, you need to stop thinking that way immediately. This crew protects its own. This crew is family. Leeteuk would never have let that bounty hunter take you. And you don’t ever have to think that he even considered it for a moment. Understand? That’s not the kind of people that make up this family.”

Looking bashful, Jaejoong said, “I’m starting to understand that, I think.”

“Good.” 

Changmin’s feet had barely touched the ground when Jaejoong asked, “What if we get to the rendezvous point and that Captain isn’t there? What if we wait and wait and he never shows up? What do we do then?”

That was something Changmin couldn’t even begin to consider. A life without Yunho? A life without knowing what had happened to him? 

“Changmin?”

Changmin pushed past the lump in his throat and said, “Leeteuk has been with Yunho on this ship from the very beginning. If the worst happens … Leeteuk will be able to take control. He’ll be able to be captain.”

Truthfully, it had always been a bit of a mystery to Changmin why Yunho was Captain and not Leeteuk. Or some kind of shared responsibility for the position. They were both leaders and both very capable of men. They both could be determined and make the kinds of difficult calls that only captains could. But for some reason Yunho gave the orders and Leeteuk followed them. And it worked.

Did it have something to do with the fact that Yunho had been leading the charge to get to Changmin when Leeteuk had met him? Maybe Leeteuk had seen Yunho’s determination and ambition and thought that following a man like him wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Leeteuk will be captain?’

“He’ll be a great captain,” Changmin told Jaejoong. “Yunho is Yunho, but Leeteuk is a good man. He’s a very good man. He’ll fly just like Yunho does, protecting his crew and doing what it takes to keep the ship going.”

But how many of the crew would want to keep going? How many would bail out at the first sign of the fractured crew becoming permanent? And how could they replaced Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi who were lost along with Yunho at the moment? 

“This is all moot point,” Changmin decided rather loudly. “You haven’t known my brother for as long as I have, Jaejoong. You don’t’ understand that Yunho defined the word stubborn as we know it now. Yunho is too stubborn not to get back to his ship--his home. It might be taking him a while, and he might not know what’s going on, but Yunho is the most capable man I’ve ever known, along with being stubborn. He’ll be there, Jaejoong, and if he isn’t, it won’t be long before he shows up.”

“Oh,” Jaejoong breathed out.

Changmin’s head cocked. “If Yunho isn’t … if he isn’t there and he doesn’t show up, are you going to stay on the ship?”

Changmin wasn’t completely sure about Jaejoong’s motivations for remaining on the ship at the moment. It could have been Yunho’s romantic interest that was the deciding factor, or just the safety the ship offered. But Jaejoong could be on the list of crewmen leaving if Yunho didn’t show.

Jaejoong pulled the gloves from his fingers and tossed them in the trash bin nearby. “I really like it on this ship,” he said. “I like the people. I don’t want to leave.”

Changmin thought about leaving himself. Of course he’d always intended to make his trip on Yunho’s ship a brief thing, for the necessity of the job only, of course. But with Yunho currently missing and the ship still in disarray, he couldn’t abandon his friends so easily. But there would come a time when he’d stayed as long as he could and he had to return to Helios for personal and professional reasons. 

It was an uncomfortable thing to consider that Yunho could still be missing by the time that Changmin had to catch a transport to Helios. 

“Then stay,” Changmin said. “Stay and make this place your home. Yoochun seems like he’s found a reason to stay too.” Changmin thumbed to the window across the room. Down the hallway Yoochun was just visible next to Onew, the both of them partially hidden by an exposed bulkhead. However there was certainly enough of them showing for Changmin to make out the way Yoochun had a hand laid gently against Onew’s cheek, and the kisses that they were sharing.

“It’s because Onew is steady,” Jaejoong said.

“Huh?” Changmin turned away from the pair to ask Jaejoong, “Onew’s steady?”

Jaejoong grinned. “In an abstract way, I suppose. Yoochun likes things that are steady and reliable. To him, Onew must look like the most beautiful person in the world. Onew is like the engine of this ship, steady and reliable.”

“You think?” Changmin questioned.

“I’ve known Yoochun most of my life,” Jaejoong shrugged. “Maybe he never showed an interest in anyone because he was too busy trying to keep his cover, but I think it has more to do with the fact that he never found anyone who was like the mountain Onew is--unmovable. I can see it in the way Yoochun looks at Onew.” A little worried, Jaejoong pressed, “Onew ins’t going to break Yoochun’s heart, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Changmin said kindly, and he really didn’t. Onew had been like a ghost as of late. He’d been broke and fractured and Changmin had seriously suspected that he wouldn’t be able to move on from the loss he’d endured. But Changmin honestly thought he saw with Yoochun and Onew what Jaejoong did. “Onews a little damaged right now, he just lost someone he really loved, but Yoochun seems good for him.”

Jaejoong offered, “Yoochun told me they can talk about anything, and they’re comfortable around each other even if they’re not saying anything.”

Through the window Yoochun gave Onew’s hand a tug and together they were heading off down the hallway.

Changmin said, “It might be a little longer before Onew is ready to love again, but something tells me Yoochun is willing to wait.”

“He’s very patient,” Jaejoong laughed out. He moved to push open the infirmary doors and told Changmin, “And you’re free to leave now. I promise I won’t call you in for at least another day or two, and then it’ll only be for me to take the heavy stitches out.”

Changmin flashed him the sign for victory.

Two days later Changmin was on the bridge with Leeteuk and Ryeowook when the planet of Caprix came into view. It was a barren kind of planet, the kind that terraforming had failed on decades ago, but there were two central areas on it at opposite ends, space ports and trading posts. The one to the North was their intended target, and Changmin was honestly terrified that they’d dock, disembark, go looking or Yunho, and find absolutely nothing.

“Take us in slowly,” Leeteuk coached to Ryeowook who was at the helm. If the worst happened, Changmin supposed that Ryeowook and Leeteuk could trade off piloting duties. “We’re cleared for berth two.”

With utmost concentration, Ryeowook brought them in.

“Changmin,” Leeteuk said, steadying himself as they descended a bit roughly. “You know what I’m going to say, right?”

Changmin narrowed his eyes. “I am not staying on the ship.”

“Yes you are,” Leeteuk said, his voice carrying an edge like Yunho’s. “I know you think you’re feeling better, but you’re not ready to go out into the field.”

“The field?” Changmin demanded, feeling as if Leeteuk had lost his mind. “This isn’t a job, Leeteuk. And if my brother is here, I’m going to find him.”

Leeteuk shook his head slowly. “You’re staying on the ship. I’m taking Ryeowook with me.”

“Are you serious!”

“Hey,” Ryeowook called over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Changmin.” Leeteuk caught his arm in a firm grip. “Jaejoong and Yoochun can’t leave the ship until we’re sure the bounty hunter was working alone. We don’t even know if he’s still alive, and if he is, he could be in communication with someone. If he has any accomplices and they trailed us in any way, Jaejoong and Yoochun be too easy to snatch off the streets. And Onew needs to continue to make repairs to the ship.”

Changmin asked, “So I’m supposed to stay here and play babysitter?”

“We’re in,” Ryeowook announced, flipping a switch to ignite the landing thrusters.

“You’re staying here,” Leeteuk stated. “If your brother is down there, he’ll kill me for bringing anyone along who isn’t capable of running away very fast should the situation go south. But especially if it’s you. So you’re going to sit here like the still injured party that you are, while I take Ryeowook, who’s more than capable of backing me up. If Yunho is there, you’ll be the first person I contact. And if he isn’t, you won’t have had to go wandering around, wheezing all over me like you might keel over.”

“Wheezing?” Changmin glared. “I do not wheeze.”

From the pilot’s seat, Ryeowook announced, “You kind of wheeze. It’s a weird sound, like you’re breathing through your teeth.”

“Keep laughing it up,” Changmin said flatly. “You two should just remember who’s credits are going to be used as bribe money if we have to hang around for a while, or if you want to eat, or how about those extra repairs we want to make with parts that need to be bought? Oh, wait, that would be mine. You still want to make fun of my wheezing?”

They were coming in fast to their designated landing area, but it didn’t seem to phase Ryeowook who said sternly, “Leeteuk, Changmin does not wheeze. Can you please not say that about my friend?”

A grin stretched out on Changmin’s face. “That’s a little better.”

“Stay here,” Leeteuk told Changmin twenty minutes later when they were firmly on the planet’s surface, ramp extended and ready for them to disembark. Ryeowook had a pistol strapped to his thigh, something that almost looked absurd, but he also looked like he was ready to handle it, so Changmin was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I heard you the first fifteen times,” Changmin said a bit childishly.

As Ryewook took a step forward, inching towards the busy port, Leeteuk grasped Changmin’s elbow and vowed, “If Yunho is here, I’ll bring him back right away, and tell you as soon as I spot him. If he isn’t, I’ll come back immediately anyway, and we’ll work out what we’re going to do from here.”

“If Yunho were here,” Changmin said, pressing his credit chip into Leeteuk’s palm, “he would have been watching the port for us. He would have seen us land, and he’d be here already.”

Leeteuk gave a small, agreeing nod. “I know.” His fingers closed around the chip and Changmin knew he understood to use it to buy them time at the port.

“Spend what you have to,” Changmin urged. “We have to stay here until Yunho arrives.” If he arrived, Changmin didn’t say.

“Protect the ship and her crew in my stead,” Leetuk called back to him, heading down after Ryeowook. 

“Always,” Changmin said quietly, heading for the ramp retraction switch. He’d never let anything happen to Yunho’s home or his crew. And when Yunho came back, he’d see that everything was in its proper place, and the rest of them could be trusted in his absence. 

There was no other reality Changmin was willing to face.


	20. Twenty: Minho

The thing that set Minho and Changmin apart the most, but one of things Minho loved sincerely about him, was how they prioritized their individual families. 

Minho loved his parents very much, and the rest of his immediate family, including his brother and sister, but that love had always felt a little contrived, or existent because of an obligation. For Minho, his happiness was not dependent on theirs, and despite the functions that they attended together in a show of familial solidarity, Minho couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d sat down to a dinner with anyone in his family simply for the sake of it.

And it was something Minho was rightly okay with. He’d always been independent, maybe to fault. He’d never really been the sort to require any kind of support system, and until Changmin, he’d never craved knowing he was making anyone proud.

But Changmin and his family? Changmin and Yunho? They were different.

Minho liked to tell himself it was because Changmin’s family was a bit unconventional. Changmin and Yunho didn’t actually share any blood between them, but they were closer than siblings who did. They’d cared for each other without hesitation when adults were typically selfish, and as a result, had developed a type of codependency. It had faded a bit as they’d grown older, naturally, but it was still ever present.

“I wouldn’t have made it without him,” Changmin told him once, early in their relationship, and maybe so Minho would know immediately how important Yunho would always be. “I would have died out there, Minho. In the orphanage. On the streets. I was small. I wasn’t always healthy. I wouldn’t have made it. I couldn’t have fended for myself.”

Since they’d set a rough timeline for the wedding, and in fact since Minho had suggested such a thing, and Changmin had answered yes before Minho could properly go about it, Changmin had been excited over the thought of introducing him to his brother. It seemed the only important thing to him now. Changmin desperately wanted Minho and Yunho to get along and like each other.

Because that was how important Yunho was to him. And Minho had sinking suspicion that if Yunho didn’t approve of the marriage, and pushed the issue, Changmin’s enthusiasm for it might take a dive. Or worse.

That was possibly the only reason Minho had so readily agreed to let Changmin go traipsing off with his big brother, more than likely getting involved in something less than legal.

Well, Changmin didn’t need his permission or anything. 

The point was, at least from Minho’s perspective, that if he hadn’t supported Changmin, it might have eventually led to a point where Changmin might have needed to make a choice between the two of them.

Minho wasn’t hedging any bets on Changmin picking him over Yunho, no matter how much they were in love.

So he’d told Changmin to go after Yunho. He’d convinced him, even. And then he’d personally exerted his father’s influence to hold up Yunho’s ship until Changmin could get there and board. It certainly hadn’t been because Minho had wanted him to go. It had only been because Minho loved Changmin, and wanted him happy above all else. 

He’d had a bad feeling in his gut ever since, and it had only compounded as the days passed and he heard nothing from Changmin.

Not until Changmin’s call had finally come through and he’d said, “I can’t find my brother, Minho.” 

If Changmin lost Yunho, Minho was absolutely certain he wouldn’t be the Changmin he’d fallen in love with. Something would be unequivocally broken inside of him. And that wasn’t’ something Minho was willing to let happen.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You realize,” Jonghyun said, pouring two fingers of whiskey and passing it off to Minho, “that your father is going to use this against you for the next few decades.”

Minho accepted the drink thankfully and tore his gaze away from the starry sky that was flashing by in a blur. “You think I don’t know that?” Minho asked with a chuckle. “He made sure to let me know he had to promise to hold an officer’s ball in the captain’s honor the next time his shore leave rotates out, and my father had to make a sizable donation in both credits and the currency of propaganda. So yes, I know that this means I’ll be standing by my father’s side for the next ten years, smiling like a fool at dinner function after function, charity ball after charity ball, ribbon cutting ceremony after--”

“I get it,” Jonghyun said, taking a seat next to Minho at the small table in the room. “You’re going to be his bitch for a sizable chunk of the foreseeable future.”

Blandly, Minho said, “Thank you for phrasing it that way.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun grinned widely. “But here’s the part where you tell me what was so important that you up and got on a ship, and I know how much you hate flying, with the more interesting part being how we’re now diverted from our plotted course and for a reason that that Captain Jung has been especially tight lipped about. Even to the officers, though Key thinks it has to do with some rebel business, Onew is convinced we’re now errand boys, and Taemin still thinks the captain hates him so much he’s going to use this as an excuse to space him.”

“Taemin’s still a kid,” Minho laughed off, letting the whiskey warm him against the cold of space. “I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing out here anyway. He was all poised to inherit his father’s business, and he turned it down for what? A uniform?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “Maybe looking over legers of numbers for years until he needed corrective eye surgery wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life, Minho. Not everyone blindly does what their parents want them to.”

It was a dig, and a personal one at that, but Minho didn’t let it curl under his skin like it wanted to. Minho had known Jonghyun for a long time, and Key and Onew as well. He’d known them all before they’d joined the Alliance, when they’d simply been teenagers on Helios, getting into trouble and arrogant enough to buy their way out of whatever the consequences were. Minho even remembered Taemin as a snotty nosed kid, always trailing after them, complaining about getting left behind and how he was going to tell his mother. 

The military had been a good option for Jonghyun and Onew, who’s parents could afford to purchase them an officer’s commission before enlisting. And it was the only option for Key, unless he wanted to end up working in a factory, or roped into something off planet. But Taemin? Taemin who’s parents were filthy rich and doted on him, spoiled him even, and would have set him up with a trust fund for life?

Maybe it came down to Taemin not wanting to get left behind by people he truly cared about, and not having the desire to do what Minho had, and delve into a career that would bring no happiness.

Only Taemin could tell Minho what the truth actually was. 

“I’m on this ship, which your captain assures me is one of the fastest Alliance vessels in the area, because of Changmin.”

“Ah,” Jonghyun said, taking a generous second drink. “The fiancé.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Minho said, jabbing a finger at him. “Just because someone actually wants to marry me and you haven’t found anyone willing to do the same for you.”

“Oh, I’m not in any rush to throw away my freedom,” Jonghyun denied quickly. “I’m just curious to see who’d be certifiably insane enough to agree to marry you. I have to meet this Changmin. And before the wedding, is preferable.”

Minho shot him a look. “Who says you’re even coming?”

The serious look on Jonghyun’s face was almost startling, even more so when he said lowly, “I have been your friend for over a decade now, Minho. I’ve seen you go from a pimple faced twit to an actual adult, who’s responsible and boring as hell, but an important part of what keeps everything running smoothly down on Helios. So you are not going to sit here and tell me I don’t get to see you become someone’s husband. Because next you’ll be telling me I won’t be godfather the second you become a father.”

“Jonghyun,” Minho said softly, setting his tumbler down on the table. “I’m just joking with you. You’re coming to the wedding. And yes, even though you’ve already invited yourself to the position, when Changmin and I decide to start a family, you’ll be godfather. Jeeze, lay off the ennui.”

Jonghyun cleared his throat. “Good. Just so you understand.”

Minho pulled the bottle from Jonghyun’s hands and said, “Enough of this. I know you have to go back on shift in a couple of hours. How about you don’t end up spending the night in the brig?”

Sliding a little in his chair to get comfortable, Jonghyun asked, “We’re going to pick up your fiancé? Or deliver you to him?”

“Wrong on both accounts.”

“Then why are you here?” Jonghyun wanted to know. “Why are we playing chauffer to you when I know your father has a wicked fast transport that you could use if you needed to get out here?”

Minho had to nod. His father did have a small space craft that was quick and made for travel between planets. He could have taken it. His father hadn’t used it in half a year.

“This is a matter of speed,” Minho said plainly. “And my father’s space ship is fast, but it’s not as fast as an Alliance ship moving at top speed. And like I said, this is about Changmin, but we’re not going to get him.” With some reluctance, Minho had to add, “I’m going to see his brother.”

Jonghyun looked at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously making the Alliance cart you out here so that you can play meet the folks?”

“Changmin’s parents are dead,” Minho reminded sourly. “His brother is his only living family, and this is more of a recovery mission, than anything else. You’ll be dropping me off where he is, and another Alliance vessel is scheduled to take us towards where Changmin is. They’ve been separated, Jonghyun, and Changmin was upset because he couldn’t get a hold of his brother. Nothing was going through for Changmin, and he thought Yunho, his brother, was in trouble. I’m coming out here to sort it personally because I happen to be a fool in love.”

“Gods help you,” Jonghyun laughed out. “You must be.”

Minho let them each have one more drink for that.

“So where is this brother?” Jonghyun pried. “And why isn’t he answering Changmin’s communications? I barely get along with my brother, but when he calls, I answer. You just sort of do that with family, no matter how you feel about them.”

Minho said honestly, “I don’t know. That’s part of the reason I’m out here, doped up on dramamine.”

Jonghyun snorted out, “No one actually get space sick, Minho.”

Ignoring him, Minho said, “Changmin wasn’t even sure where his brother was. He just knew they were separated somewhere near New Haven. Security footage picked him up on Valhalla, two planets over from New Haven, but still easily within the same system. I watched the footage myself, Jonghyun. He looks fine. He looks perfectly fine. So why is he ignoring Changmin? Why hasn’t he even let Changmin know he’s okay? There has to be something more going on here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“Good luck with that,” Jonghyun said, fingers running through his short hair. “You and the brother get along?”

“I met him for about five minutes,” Minho laughed out. “I’m not sure if the impression was good on either side. But he’s Changmin’s brother. Changmin loves him, and I love Changmin, so here I am.”

“Well,” Jonghyung said with a heavy sight. “Good luck. Sounds like you’re going to need it.”

“Thanks,” Minho said. He hoped what greeted him on Valhalla was something he could report back to Changmin with happiness. He hoped there was a justifiable reason for Yunho ignoring Changmin and making him worry. Because if there wasn’t, Minho feared what would happen between the three of them, and how it would affect their future as a family.

Twenty hours later Minho found himself stepping off the Alliance ship with a small bag over one shoulder, and a determined resolve in his chest.

Like most of the planets located in the central Core, Valhalla was a hub of activity. An active space port gave way to a transport center filled with hotels, restaurants and more importantly, bars. And there was one bar Minho was looking for in particular, the very bar who’s security system had been the first to identify Yunho. 

Minho had spent the last day or so watching that footage intensely, his attention drawn specifically to how often Yunho could be found sitting at the bar, shoulders slumped and head down as he nursed countless drinks. Occasionally they were others too, two men who came and went, often attempting to force the captain from the bar, but never succeeding.

The two men, Yunho’s companions, weren’t present when Minho made this way through the door to Odin’s Tavern. It was the kind of bar that catered to the likes of Yunho, probably serving scotch and whisky over the high priced and frankly somewhat bland alcohol Minho found closer to home. 

But the captain was not present, which was an immediately worry for Minho. Cameras had tracked Yunho in the area for days, and he didn’t have much deviation from a pattern Minho had already memorized. If the captain wasn’t here, he had to be back at the hotel he was currently staying in, or stumbling around the space port like he seemed to do often.

“I’m looking for a man,” Minho said, sliding the bartender a credit chip and ordering a glass of water. He might have preferred something much stronger, but he needed to keep his wits about him, especially if the whole day was spent tracking down Yunho. “He’d have arrived several days ago and is often in the company of two other men.”

The bartender served him his glass of water, which looked clean enough, and slid the credit chip into his pocket. “A lot of men come through here. Can you be a little more specific?”

“I can do better.” Minho reached for his data pad and flipped it around for the bartender to see. “His name is Jung Yunho. Have you seen him? He comes here several times a day, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had to carry him out at the end of the night.”

The bartender gave a firm nod. “I know him. He usually stumbles his way in at the end of my shift. He’s …the kind of man who drinks like he has nothing else.”

Minho frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug, the bartender said, “He never makes eye contract, and the only time he talks is when he’s ordering a drink, or when those friends of his are trying to get him to leave. And yeah, sometimes he’ll drink until he’s close to passing out. Why are you looking for him?”

“Family business,” Minho informed him, passing the man another data chip. “You said he comes in at the end of your shift? When is that?”

After a glance toward the clock across the room on the wall, the bartender said, “About an hour. Stick around. He’ll be here.”

Minho wondered if it maybe wasn’t a better idea to keep moving, book a room at the local hotel, or even see if he could find Yunho before he showed up. But Minho was still feeling the after effects of traveling by ship, and no matter what Jonghyun said, the action made him more than a little nauseas.

Plus, an hour wasn’t so long to wait. Not for the answers he was determined to get from Yunho.

By the time the bartender tapped the countertop in front of him and gestured to the door, Minho had ordered something to eat and allowed himself a small drink. 

All of that was forgotten as he turned to watch Yunho slink his way through the bar.

Minho had only met him the once before. But on that occasion Yunho had sort of been exactly the way Minho had imagined him been, from the way Changmin had described him. He’d been obvious captain material, tall, strong, and intimidating. He’d been a bit of a smart mouth, clearly the kind of man who commanded respect, but more importantly, the picture of a man who protected his family against any and all threats. That was what had eased Minho’s almost frantic concerns the most. Yunho had seemed as if he could take care of Changmin, as they flew off to get into trouble.

This man in front of him now, who wore Yunho’s face but seemed half the man physically now than he had been before, was radically different.

He seemed a shell of a man, hunched over with a slump as he walked, hair messy and in need of a brushing. There was several days worth of growth on his face, and he looked so pallid he seemed sick.

“Bartender,” Yunho said, throwing himself into the seat two down from Minho. 

“Your usual?” the bartender asked, already halfway through making his drink.

Yunho gave a low grunt in return. 

Minho leaned towards him, waiting for Yunho to recognize him, but the man who would be his brother-in -aw barely seemed aware of himself, let alone those around him.

Finally, out of patience and tired from all his travel, Minho cleared his throat and said, “Yunho.”

Yunho ignored him, reaching for the beer in front of him, gulping down some of the amber liquid quickly.

“Yunho,” Minho said against, sliding a chair closer. “It’s Minho.”

Yunho froze up, so at least Minho knew that Yunho recognized him there.

“Yunho, what the hell are you doing here?”

Moving almost sluggishly, Yunho set his glass down and turned bloodshot eyes on Minho. The look on his face was haunting.

Yunho’s voice was rough and low as he asked, almost like he thought he was hallucinating, “Minho?”

“How about,” Minho said, reaching for the beer and sliding it away from him, “we have this discussion with you sober. I can tell, neither one of us is going to enjoy it, but alcohol isn’t going to help it run any more smoothly.”

“You’re here.” Minho watched Yunho grip the countertop tightly, his fingers going white from the pressure. “How … why …”

“Because I was worried,” Minho said, and it was at least partially true. Of course if Changmin hadn’t been the one asking the favor, it was safe to say Minho wouldn’t have dared to think of leaving Helios for his wayward almost brother-in-law. However, they were going to be family, and if Changmin was worried, Minho felt obligated to be worried as well. 

It was certainly Minho’s hope that the way that Changmin and Yunho loved each other would rub off a bit on Minho. 

Yunho choked out a laugh. “You were worried about me?”

“Believe it or not,” Minho said. “Now, do you want to tell me what you’re doing here? I’ve got you on camera for the past few days doing nothing but drinking until you pass out.”

Yunho looked away, moving his hands to bunch up on the countertop, leaning forward to brace his elbows. “You’ve been watching me,” Yunho stated.

“For Changmin’s sake, if we’re being honest.”

“Do not,” Yunho said so viciously that he startled Minho and almost frightened him, “talk to me about Changmin.”

Minho was not one to be intimidated. He’d never been. Especially not by someone who had no right attempting it, whether it was reactionary or otherwise.

“I have every right to talk about him, Yunho,” Minho said right away, sternly even. “And that’s what this is really about. This, with you here, and me here, is about Changmin. So how about you start talking and we can get everything resolved.”

The bar was noisy around them. But Yunho was not. Instead he was still and quiet. He was, in Minho’s opinion, a perfect statue. 

“Yunho?”

The first sign of life from Yunho came in the form of trembling shoulders, which gave way to shaky gasps of breath, and then eventually Yunho sliding forward until his forehead was braced against the bar countertop and he was going limp like jelly. 

“I …” Minho reached a hand out for him, but drew back at the last moment. Changmin wasn’t overly affectionate. He liked to tease, and his verbal quips were almost legendary. But physically Changmin wasn’t much for what he jokingly called skinship. Was Yunho any different? Would he even want Minho to touch him?

“I’m sorry,” Yunho creaked out, head turning just slightly so that Minho could see the tears falling, streaking down his skin, making him seem much younger than he actually was.

“Sorry?” Minho asked. “For what?”

Yunho sniffled, and Minho could hardly believe what was happening. This couldn’t be Changmin’s brother. It just didn’t seem possible. 

“I …” Yunho trailed off and finally Minho put a hand on his shoulder. When it wasn’t immediately shrugged off, Minho counted it as a win.

He dared to ask, “Why are you so upset? What’s got you all worked up like this?”

Blinking blearily at him, Yunho asked, his voice at a whisper, “Are you serious?”

Minho frowned. “Of course I’m serious. I want to know. Maybe if I know, I can help you figure it out. Or at the very least you have to give me something for Changmin. You’re scaring him half to death, I hope you realize. You won’t contact him, he can’t get through to you, and he’s going out his mind with--”

It happened so quickly that Minho lost himself for a moment.

Minho had never been much of a fighter. Per his father’s wishes, he and his brother had learned to defend themselves early on in life, and if push came to shove, in a fair fight, Minho was confident in his abilities. But Yunho had moved like a blur. He’d moved like he wasn’t even there, overturning bar chairs and ripping Minho off his feet with a twist to his arm before his mind could catch up. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” Minho demanded, his arm wrenched up painfully behind his back, his face smashed down onto the bar top. 

Around them voices quieted immediately and the barkeep was calling for Yunho to let him go, or face the consequences. 

Minho certainly didn’t want Yunho being shot over him--that wasn’t really something he could explain to Changmin.

Quietly, and in the scariest voice Minho had ever heard, Yunho asked him, “What are you talking about? Changmin is dead.”

Minho’s feet fell out from under him even faster than Yunho had moved, and it disrupted the balancing act between the two of them. Yunho lost his grip and Minho slid to the floor, gasping out, “That’s not … it’s impossible. He’s not …”

“Of course he is,” Yunho spat out angrily, such furry and violence on his face. It crumpled a half second later, the tears threatening to resurface as he said much more kindly, “He’s dead, Minho. He’s dead. I’m so sorry. I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to keep him safe. And now he’s …”

“He is not!” Minho shot to his feet, giving Yunho a vicious shove. “Don’t you say something like that.”

If Changmin were dead … Minho would …

Minho loved Changmin in the way that he’d almost imagined love couldn’t exist. In the way that was pure and unflinching, and wholly consuming. Life before Changmin was a distant memory, like a past life or vague dream. It was a place that Minho was never going back to, because he’d been incomplete then, and he was so very whole now.

“He is!” Yunho’s voice stormed back, and then from his pocket he retrieved a fist sized black box and slammed it down on the bartop. 

Minho knew what it was immediately, despite very little knowledge about ships in general. But it was the most basic of understanding that each ship had within it a recorder, a little black, almost impenetrable computer that recorded everything from navigational data, to how the systems within the ship were functioning. They were always present in ships, a mandate by law that was strictly enforced, and an objected that few people ever hoped to see.

“Why do you--” Minho started to say, then stopped abruptly. 

“This is all that’s left,” Yunho said, sliding it over to Minho who caught it awkwardly. “This is what’s left of Changmin. This and a bunch of floating space junk.”

Shakily Minho picked it up. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Yunho laughed out wryly. “And don’t bother deluding yourself. I already had the data analyzed. The ship … there was a hull fracture, and something went terribly wrong with the navigation system before that. The box recorded a loss of gravity, destabilization, and then an explosion. When I took the shuttle up to where I’d left the ship, the ship with Changmin on it, there was nothing but this, and space debris from what had been the ship. He’s … he’s gone.”

Yunho reached immediately for the beer in front of him and finished it off, then slammed his hand on the bar top and said, “I need another one.”

“Yunho,” the bartender eased out.

Minho lost himself in that moment, staring down at the recorder. His hearing winked out, his vision went spotting, and the world listed crazily to the side. 

“It can’t …” 

Changmin couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible. Changmin was … bright and sunny. He was funny and charming. He was thoughtful and intelligent. Changmin was everything right about Minho’s life, and everything his future held. He was not dead.

“He is not dead!”

Minho had not gotten on a ship, something that made him feel queasy and dizzy, and flown halfway across the Core for Changmin to be dead. And for what? For Minho to be left alone once more? Or worse, to be left with Yunho?

“Keep telling yourself that,” Yunho stated rudely. He was already working his way through the next drink.

This was why Yunho was where he was. This was why he was …

Wait.

Minho tried to get himself under control. His mind was whirling, but something wasn’t making sense.

“No,” he said, shaking his name and moving back to Yunho’s side. “I just talked to Changmin two days ago. He asked me to come looking for you then. But you’ve been here, steadily turning yourself into a drunkard, for a little over three.”

Yunho pivoted sharply towards him. “You talked to Changmin two days ago?”

Minho gave a slow nod. “I did. He contacted me because he was worried. He said he’d been separated from you, and couldn’t communicate with you. He thought something terrible had happened, so I came out here to make sure that wasn’t the case.”

“But,” Yunho said, inching away from his drink, then tentatively taking the cube from Minho’s palm. “But this thing recorded the ship exploding four days ago.”

Minho gripped Yunho’s shoulders tightly. “I talked to Changmin two days ago.”

It was etched across Yunho’s face, the desperate hope he had that Minho was telling the truth.

Minho made a choice to pull at Yunho right away. He tossed credit chips towards the barkeep, covering Yunho’s drinks, then led him out of the bar and to the slide street nearest them for privacy.

“Changmin said he’s been attempting to contact you since they managed to repair the ship’s communication’s systems.”

Yunho pressed in almost uncomfortably close to Minho, his eyes still a little wide. “The ship didn’t explode?”

Minho shook his head. “But there was an explosion. Changmin wasn’t clear about why or how, but I know it knocked out everything from propulsion to navigation, and even life support for a while. They had to jump start the engine, and it knocked them quite far away. Yunho, I swear to you, Changmin is alive. He--woah!”

Minho had to dive forward a little to catch Yunho as his knees finally unlocked and he threatened to go crashing down. Yunho was heavy, full of muscle and dead weight, but he only needed a second before he was helping Minho support himself. 

“He’s alive,” Yunho gasped out. “Changmin is alive. The ship didn’t explode.”

Minho finally let go of Yunho and leveled the recorder box up. “I bet when that explosion on the ship happened, this box ended up in space along with parts of the ship. The box doesn’t think for itself, Yunho. It can’t even analyze its own data. It only records what its been told to. It would show an explosion. It would give you information to make you think the ship was destroyed.”

All this time, Minho realized. All this time Yunho had been thinking that not only had he lost his ship and his crew, but his brother.

It was no wonder he’d been thoroughly attempting to drink himself to death.

“Changmin’s alive,” Yunho repeated, and he was saying it over and over, like a mantra he couldn’t quite accept yet.

Minho offered, “You want to talk to him?”

Yunho froze. 

Now that his future brother in law wasn’t looking quite so fragile, Minho felt safe pulling him along again, towards the hotel he’d planned to stay at until his Alliance transport picked him up the following day. “Come on. We’ll need to use the hotel’s communication’s terminal to get a signal to him. He’s pretty far away, on Caprix.”

“Caprix?” Yunho asked, walking along like he was on autopilot. “Oh, of course he is. Leeteuk’s alive too. He would know to go there. They’re waiting for me.”

Minho grinned at him, his stomach finally starting to settle down. “Let him yell at you a little, okay? He surely will the second he sees you. You really scared him, Yunho. Like I’ve never seen before.”

They were walking at a steady pace, faces flying by them as Yunho promised, “He can yell at me all he wants.”

It was obvious as long as Changmin was on the other end of the screen, alive and breathing, Yunho would clearly take whatever kind of lashing Changmin had ready for him.

And thrash him Changmin did.

Minho took a step back from Yunho as he made his call, offering the illusion of privacy, but could still hear every word.

Changmin’s voice was rushed and a bit pitchy as he snapped out, “--sitting around a bar? Jung Yunho, who do you think you are? Do you have any idea what I was thinking? I am going to strangle the inconsideration out of--”

Minho moved even further away.

Changmin and Yunho talked for fifty-five minutes, something that ate up a good deal of credits on Minho’s end, but it was worth it in the end for the way Yunho looked like life had been breathed into him, and Changmin grinned at Minho like he’d just earned himself uncountable bonus points.

Yunho drank buckets of coffee after that, to try and counteract the alcohol while Minho met Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi for the first time.

Zhou Mi was a calm, almost plain man that did nothing to catch his interest, but he supposed Kyuhyun made up for that by reminding him of Changmin in far too many ways.

“He’s marrying you?” Kyuhyun said, his eyes still a touch bit red, the only evidence that he’d cried the moment he’d heard the ship hadn’t exploded.

Minho laughed, “Why is that the reaction several people have had?”

Kyuhyun shrugged, then said, “You seem kind of boring, to be honest.”

“Then don’t I balance Changmin out?” Minho replied. 

“Or settle him down a bit,” Zhou Mi said, arms around Kyuhyun playfully. “I understand the dynamic well.”

An hour later wedding invitations had been extended to the duo, something that Minho felt better doing formally instead of just verbally, but thought for sure it was something that Changmin would have pressed for long before the actual date, so it was more like taking care of business than anything else. And sixteen hours later they were on the Alliance ship Margot, jetting towards Caprix as fast as he powerful engines could take them.

This time around Minho still needed his dose of Dramamine for the nausea, but the flight left him feeling much less anxious, despite being housed with Yunho, Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi in the guest quarters for the journey.

“Woah,” Kyuhyun said from his position at the huge windows in the room. He’d been there for the entire duration they’d been moving. “This is awesome. Mi, what do you think the chances are of me getting onto the bridge? I have to see the controls for this ship in person.”

“Slim to absolutely none,” Zhou Mi said calmly from next to him. 

“I want to thank you.”

Minho looked instinctively towards Yunho’s voice, the Captain sitting opposite him and almost looking like himself. Or at least what Minho remembered him looking like.

Not trying to sound rude, Minho did have to tell him, “I didn’t do this for you. You know I did it for Changmin.”

Yunho shook his head, but there was grin on his face. “I didn’t mean for this. I mean, thank you for this too. I … I always knew Changmin was the most important person in the ‘verse to me. I always knew that if anything happened to him … I would …”

“You don’t have to say it,” Minho said, because he already knew. He loved Changmin in a different way Yunho did, but they both felt the same about what his death would do to them.

Appreciative for the words, Yunho continued, “I mean thank you for being what Changmin needs. For loving him and supporting him, and giving him what I’ve always wanted him to have.”

Minho told Yunho happily, “You don’t need to thank me for loving Changmin. It’s … instinctual. It’s unavoidable.”

Yunho’s eyes narrowed appraisingly. “But you’re a good man. You’re better than most. And I don’t think I need to tell you I don’t reckon anyone will ever be good enough for Changmin, but you might be as close as it’s going to get.”

“Then we get your blessing?” Minho asked, because if this sort of thing didn’t bond a couple of guys, he didn’t know what did. “For the wedding.”

Yunho supposed, “Changmin really and truly loves you. And earning love from Changmin isn’t so easy. I think he’d marry you anyway, even if I didn’t support the two of you.”

“Nah,” Minho argued in a friendly way, “he wouldn’t. But thanks anyway.”

“I have got to get one of these!” Kyuhyun proclaimed loudly. Minho could see faint bruising around his neck almost like he’d been grabbed by someone, but he knew it couldn’t have been Yunho, and it seemed incredible unlikely it had been Zhou Mi. 

“Trusting my little brother to someone, Minho, even someone who loves him as much as you do, isn’t any easy thing,” Yunho told him.

“You wouldn’t be a good big brother if it was.” Minho shrugged.

Yunho gave a huff of a laugh and in that moment Minho knew without a doubt that he’d won the man over. 

They were going to be family. 

It surprised Minho how much the thought pleased him.


	21. Twenty-One: Yunho

He’d been drowning. There wasn’t a more succinct or apt way of describing what had been happening. He’d been drowning, not even really treading water, and the worst part was that he hadn’t even been attempting to fight it. He’d gone willingly, floating by unfamiliar places, too familiar faces, and the staunch reality that he was never going to see Changmin again.

Because Changmin was dead.

His little brother was dead and it was all Yunho’s fault.

Occasionally he could hear voices of people who’d been important to him once, when things had mattered.

He could hear Kyuhyun saying loudly, almost chiding, “You’re not the only one who lost people you loved!”

And then Mi would say, “Let him be, Kyuhyun. You lost a friend, he lost family.”

It wasn’t just that Yunho had lost his family. He’d lost far more than that.

“My friends were my family,” Kyuhyun had added. Then, “What are we even doing here, Mi? Sitting around, watching our captain drink himself to death? This is ridiculous!”

They’d been free to leave at any time, but Yunho knew why they’d stuck around. He knew why day after day they’d tried their best to take care of him, and console him, and help him get back to the person he’d been before Changmin had died.

They’d just never known that returning to that state, one where he was a functioning individual with hopes and dreams, was never going to happen.

Because Changmin was dead, and Yunho was to blame.

He wanted to die, and desperately take the risk that the old gods were real, that the afterlife existed, and that Changmin would be there waiting for him. He wanted to take the easy way out and just stop thinking. 

He absolutely had to stop thinking, because when he thought, all he could picture was the look on Changmin’s face when he’d come waltzing up into the ship, lending his name and reputation to Yunho to get to New Haven. 

The truth was, no matter how anyone told it, that Changmin wouldn’t have been on the ship when it exploded if Yunho hadn’t insisted on garnering his help. If Yunho had just left well enough alone, and figured out a solution to the problem of New Haven on his own, Changmin would have been left safe and sound on Helios. 

Maybe the ship wouldn’t have exploded.

And by the time the weather turned nice on Helios, and Changmin was getting married, Yunho would’ve been there to see it.

If Yunho had only kept his mouth shut, and not traded the Eye for his brother, he wouldn’t be drowning.

Then the impossible had happened. 

Just as Yunho had resolved himself to a future filled with beer until his money ran out, and not much else, Minho had pulled his legs out from under him.

Changmin wasn’t dead. Changmin was alive.

“Is this going to be like a romantic vid?” Minho asked as they disembarked from their Alliance transport. He had a teasing tone to his voice, but also a cautious one. Yunho had come a long way from what he’d looked like and been like when Minho had found him, but there was still some trepidation, understandably, about his stability. Yunho more than understood, and couldn’t fault him for it.

“Probably,” Kyuhyun cut out playfully for Yunho, dashing past him towards the busy space sport, Zhou Mi trailing afterwards at a more leisure pace.

“Probably,” Yunho echoed. “There’s sure to be some platonic hugging, at the very least.” His eyes were searching right away for his ship. The port was huge, and they were garnering a great deal of attention with the Alliance ship behind them, but Yunho cared about none of it. Only about spotting the Tohoshinki.

Kyuhyun did it before Yunho, which was perfectly all right.

Kyuhyun took off at a sprint towards the ship on the far side of the port and Yunho called back to Minho, “I may need your help to pull Kyuhyun off the others. Come on!” Then Yunho was running too, legs working at a blur, streaking towards his family and his home and all the things that he lived for. 

The best part was that they didn’t even have to contact the control tower to have the ship lower her ramp. Neither did they have to throw the idea to the side based on a lack of patience and start banging frantically on the hull.

They didn’t have to do any of it because the ramp was already down, most of the crew on the appendage watching the Alliance ship.

“Changmin!”

Yunho spotted him like a hawk, arms crossed in his fancy clothing, a suspicious look on his face.

Immediately his brother heard him, arms falling away and body turning towards Yunho. Then his eyes were widening, his jaw dropping and he was running to meet Yunho.

“Changmin!” Kyuhyun called from near Yunho. And he was also shouting the names of the rest of the crew, acting every bit the teenager he’d be for a few more months.

Yunho caught Changmin in a grip that was perhaps too tight. They collided with a great deal of force, slamming into each other and holding on tightly. But bruises were superficial and they would fade over time. The most important thing for Yunho was having his brother in his arms and being able to process the fact that he was alive, and everything since Minho’s arrival hadn’t been a dream.

“Yunho,” Changmin sighed out, more emotional and affectionate than Yunho had ever seen him in his life. His shoulders were shaking as he breathed out, “I didn’t know what to think. I was so worried.”

“I thought you were dead,” Yunho choked out, and he realized it was the first time he’d said the words to Changmin. It was first time he’d told him of his greatest fear. “I thought the ship had exploded.”

“We didn’t,” Changmin said, puling back so Yunho could see that there were tears of happiness in his eyes. “Of course we didn’t. Your ship is a bucket, Yunho, but she’s got the best people in the world holding her together.”

Yunho wrapped him up in a crushing hug once more, and through his own tears he could see Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi hugging he others, 

“I’m sorry,” Changmin whispered in his ear, voice wavering.

“For what?” Yunho asked. He felt like a child again, like he was tiny and scared. When he’d been small it had been a struggle to protect Changmin. Now Changmin was an adult, and not so much in need of protection, no matter how much Yunho still wanted to do it, but the urge was never ending. “You know nothing that happened is your fault.”

“No,” Changmin agreed, his fingers clenching around the material at Yunho’s shirt. “I’m just so sorry you had to think I was dead.”

Yunho shook his head. “You’ve got one hell of a fiancé, Changmin.”

“I could have told you that,” Minho said from behind them, making his way slowly up the ramp. “Changmin, I missed you.”

Yunho tried desperately to smother down the tiniest hint of jealousy he felt as Changmin finally let go of him and embraced Minho instead.

If there had been even the slightest doubt in Yunho’s mind that Changmin and Minho weren’t in love, and honestly there probably was, it was smashed to pieces by the way they were currently kissing each other.

“Psst,” Kyuhyun said, his voice catching Yunho’s ears. “Leeteuk, Ryeowook. That’s Minho. That’s the guy our Changminnie is marrying.”

Maybe it should have even been a little disturbing for Yunho, watching his little brother make out with anther person, but it really wasn’t. Minho was kissing Changmin with care and attention and tenderness. But more than that, he was kissing Changmin like he was a man in love, and it only served to reassure Yunho that this was the person he could leave Changmin’s care to. This was the kind of man Yunho had always dared to hope Changmin would end up with.

“You are amazing,” Changmin told Minho when they’d finally stopped kissing. 

Minho said dismissively right away, “How do you know this wasn’t more for my benefit than anything else? I actually have to get to know the guy who’s going to be my brother-in-law before the wedding, and since you refuse to bring him around enough for this to happen, I took advantage of a situation.”

Changmin slid his fingers through Minho’s and tugged him over to where Yunho was standing, remarking, “It’s not me who keeps my brother away, isn’t that right, Yunho? He’s fully aware I’ll make time for him without hesitation.”

Yunho laughed a little, the first that felt real in what must have been ages, and said, “I guess I’ll have to start coming around more often, then.”

He had a sinking suspicion that he’d be hounding Changmin more than he ever had before, at least for the foreseeable future. Maybe he’d let up the second his paranoia over Changmin’s well being did, not that he expected that to happen anytime soon.

One more quick look to the crew showed that Leeteuk and Zhou Mi were chatting easily with Onew, and Kyuhyun had a relieved arm around Ryeowook’s narrow shoulders.

It was a scene Yunho had never expected to see again, but one that kept him grounded in the here and now. It kept him pushing forward, along with Changmin’s smiling face.

But not all the crew was present. There were two missing members.

“Leeteuk,” Yunho said, clasping at his arm when he was near enough, so very thankful to see him alive as well. “Where are the others?”

Leeteuk raised a knowing smile, a bit of a grin on his face. “You mean Jaejoong?”

Yunho couldn’t even bring himself to feel the slightest bit agitated. Changmin was Yunho’s world, and him being alive was the only thing that had gotten Yunho going again. But Jaejoong had never been put fully from Yunho’s mind. Guilt about his presence on the ship had haunted Yunho on Valhalla as well. There was a part of Yunho that needed to see Jaejoong as well, if only to stop his hammering heart.

Onew spoke up, “You only said that you’d caught a fast transport and would be here quickly. We had no idea you were coming in on that thing.” Onew nodded towards Alliance ship that hadn’t even bothered to cool its engines. “So naturally, considering the somewhat … delicate status of a couple of our crew, we were a little worried to see an Alliance ship land here.”

Of course. Now Yunho felt stupid for not sharing Minho had managed to get them a ride out on an Alliance transport that could outpace the Tohoshinki easily. It had slipped his mind after the moment he’d seen Changmin on the video screen, and everything else had blanked from importance.

“They’re inside,” Leeteuk said bluntly, thumbing up towards the ship. “We thought it was best if they stayed out of sight, just in case, until we knew more.”

Changmin reached over to pinch Yunho playfully. “You should go se him.”

Yunho wanted to. Oh, how Yunho wanted to, but he was still nervous about letting Changmin out of his sight. It was illogical, but there was pent up fear in him that he’d come back to find Changmin missing once more--gone from his side.

“Yunho,” Changmin said softly, as if he was so easily able to sense his brother’s thoughts, and it was possible he was. “The rest of us are going to take this reunion inside as well. Go find your doctor and say hello, okay?”

Yunho took a half second to rally his courage, then gave a nod and strode forcefully up the ramp and towards the infirmary.

“Yunho,” Yoochun said a bit in awe when the man caught sight of him a few walkways away from the infirmary. He cleared his throat and then said, “I mean, Captain. It’s good to see you.”

Yunho, who’d had a rough start with Jaejoong, but even more so with Yoochun, only found himself smiling at the man. “Good to see you too. I heard there was some excitement on this ship.”

With a laugh, Yoochun said, “I’m absolutely convinced this is the most lucky ship I have ever seen in my life.”

Yunho gave him a pat to the shoulder and kept going.

Thirty seconds later and the infirmary came into view, the bright ceiling lights of the room illuminating the space and everything inside it, including Jaejoong.

For just a second, Yunho allowed himself to simply stand at a distance and watch Jaejoong through the large window. Jaejoong was as beautiful as ever, tall and graceful and all kinds of desirable. But he looked sad now, too, standing to the side as he sanitized instruments.

The doors to the infirmary were already open when Yunho got there, and he slid himself through with ease. Jaejoong still hadn’t noticed him, and looked to be off in his own world, too wrapped up in his thoughts.

“Jaejoong,” Yunho said, his voice a little weak at first, but growing stronger by the minute. “I missed you.”

Jaejoong set a scalpel down gingerly on the tray in front of him, his shoulders all knotted up in tension. “Changmin told me you were on your way.” His tone was even, but also unflinchingly bland.

This certainly wasn’t the way Yunho had imagined the reunion going. At least with Changmin there had been hugging. 

“I …” Yunho took another step further into the room. “Did you … ah, did anyone tell you what happened?”

Slowly, but finally, Jaejoong turned to look at Yunho, and his face was drawn with worry. “I know what happened here, on the ship, and Leeteuk said the reason you couldn’t communicate with us was a mistake on your end. But I don’t--”

Yunho steadied himself and said, “I thought you were dead. I thought you all were dead. The recorder from the ship, the one that I’m going to assume was jettisoned into space after the first explosion, or after you jumped the engines back to life, gave every indication that you’d been blown to pieces.”

“What?” Jaejoong demanded, and he put his hand down too heavily on the tray the instruments had been sitting on. It flipped quickly, sending steel clattering down to the ground, but Jaejoong seemed immune to the sight, eyes wide and almost frantic on Yunho’s form instead. “What?”

Carefully, Yunho repeated, “I though that Changmin, and you, and the others were dead.”

“We thought you were just missing,” Jaejoong returned.

“Thought I cut and run with the Eye?” Yunho teased, hands in his pocket. “Jaejoong, that damn gem doesn’t mean a fraction to me what this crew does.”

Jaejoong shook his head. “I never thought that for a second.”

Yunho barely had time to brace himself before Jaejoong was pressed against him, all long arms and legs, chest heaving, relief now pouring out of him.

“Hey,” Yunho said, rubbing his back as he held him. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Jaejoong ground out, fingers twisting around the back of Yunho’s neck, his forehead against Yunho’s. “I thought you were missing and I’d never see you again. You were supposed to be here. This is your meeting spot. But you weren’t, and the others were worried, and all I could think about so selfishly was how I felt about you and how I’d never get to see you again.”

It was going to be Yunho’s new resolution, he decided, to absolutely make sure he did as little to scare the people who loved him, and whom he loved, as possible in the future. 

“Sometimes these things just happen,” Yunho said, feeling more and more confident in what the future held now that he’d hugged Changmin and had Jaejoong in front of him. “But I’m sorry you had this scare.”

Their relationship, or whatever they had, was so new and so fragile Yunho was afraid to make a wrong move. He was afraid to do something Jaejoong didn’t like, or didn’t want, and it held him back at times. But there was no stopping the need to kiss Jaejoong in that moment, and as he bent down, deliberately cupping Jaejoong’s face and giving him ample time to speak up about the intended kiss, Yunho felt reassured when no resistance came.

Yunho kissed Jaejoong in a way that seemed completely different from the way Minho and Changmin had kissed. Theirs had been a respectful but loving kiss. Yunho’s mouth on Jaejoong’s was quite different, full of desire and need and passion and even something a little more dangerous than that. Yunho kissed him hard, like he knew Jaejoong wasn’t as fragile as he often looked, and like it was the kind of intense kiss that both parties could withstand.

He must have guessed right, because Jaejoong pushed up into the kiss with a happy sigh, his arms hanging loosely from Yunho’s shoulders as their mouths moved together. 

To Yunho, feeling the barest hint of tongue from an increasingly bold Jaaejoong, it was like no kiss he’d ever had before. Jaejoong felt like no man Yunho had ever held. 

“Don’t you ever do something like this to us again,” Jaejoong said, pulling back just enough to whisper the words. “Not to me, not to your crew, and not to your brother.”

“I can’t exactly make that kind of promise,” Yunho said gently. He let his thumb stroke across Jaejoong’s cheek, marveling in the smoothness of the skin. Jaejoong was soft now. He was ever bit the Core bred gentleman he looked. But if he stayed on the ship, and Yunho wasn’t exactly willing to let him go anymore, it was something that would change. 

“Then swear you’ll try.”

Yunho forced a smile and kissed Jaejoong’s lips once more. “I’ll try.”

He’d more than just try, Yunho reasoned. 

An hour later saw the entire crew together, Minho included, squeezed into the small kitchen area while Ryeowook cooked like a madman and Leeteuk passed around the bottle of champagne they’d been hoarding for an appropriate situation. It was probably cheap compared to what Yunho knew Minho and Changmin were used to drinking, but they happily accepted glasses and seemed genuinely appreciative. Maybe it was more about the inclusively of moment, and less about the drink itself.

And for the rest of the night they ate and drank. They demolished almost all the food they had on the ship, and once the champagne was gone, they moved on to the more dangerous alcohol, the kind that Jaejoong and Ryeowook refused to drink, Changmin wouldn’t let himself or Minho have, and Kyuhyun asked for seconds on.

They laughed and talked and they were a family.

By morning the Eye, still packed in it protective case, was burning a proverbial hole in Yunho’s pocket. Yunho woke with it on his mind, consuming his thoughts, at least until he tried to roll over in his bunk and discovered he was being half crushed by Jaejoong’s warm body.

“Oh,” he breathed out, realizing his right arm was asleep where Jaejoong was using it for a pillow, and their legs were twisted up in a crazy kind of way. 

Yunho had slept with all of two people before in his life. He’d had sex with plenty, though it wasn’t an abhorrent number. But slept? He’d shared a bed with Changmin, naturally, and then Leeteuk when they’d been space mining, and temperatures had been frigid and they’d needed each other more than they’d wanted each other.

Waking up with Jaejoong felt distinctly different than any of those times, and far better. Jaejoong was a welcomed weight against him, the more he thought about it, secure in the way he stretched across Yunho, breathing evenly, face relaxed in sleep.

“That’s creepy, you know,” Jaejoong said a few minutes later, stretching his arms out and groaning.

If this was what it was like to wake up next to the man he was falling in love with, dressed in their clothes, Yunho wondered how much more amazing it would be when their clothing was gone completely.

“What’s creepy?”

Slowly Jaejoong sat up. “Watching me sleep. No one wants to be watched when they’re sleeping. It’s creepy.” Then Jaejoong kissed Yunho’s forehead chastely and rolled out of bed.

“I take it you’re a morning person,” Yunho remarked dryly, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. He most certainly did not like mornings. 

Jaejoong straightened his rumpled clothing and then threaded his fingers through his hair quickly. “I’m a doctor, Yunho. I’m used to sleeping three, maybe four hours a single day.”

“We’ll work on that,” Yunho said, pulling himself from bed. Now if only Yunho could remember how they’d ended up down in his bunk to begin with. 

After breakfast Minho helped with the dishes, kissed Changmin sweetly, and then told him, “I’m going to head into town. I need to talk to my father and make arrangements for us to return.”

The words sent a spike of fear through Yunho. Of course Minho was going to take Changmin back with him. How could Yunho have thought otherwise? Changmin had only left Helios to be of help to Yunho, and now his contribution was over. Changmin had a retirement to finalize, a wedding to plan, and a life to get back to.

“You can use the communications terminal here,” Changmin said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Minho gave him a knowing look, one that cut over to Yunho. “I think it might be better if I go find a different one, and give you all a chance to talk.”

“Talk?” Changmin echoed. 

Minho’s mouth pursed for a second, then he offered, “Yes, talk. About … whatever happened on New Haven, that I will never ask about, or bring up outside of right now. And it think everyone can agree that it’ll be best if I’m not here for the conversation.”

Changmin gave Yunho a pointed look, and he understood what it implied almost immediately. Minho was trustworthy. He was deserving of the truth, responsible enough to hold their secrets, and more than that, he was family.

Yunho told Minho, “If you want to stay, you can.”

Minho reached for another kiss from Changmin, then held his hand out to Yunho. After a quick shake, he said, “Thanks for that, but no, I think I’m going to go take a walk and call my father. I’ll be about an hour. Is that enough time?”

Yunho grinned at him. “It is. Thanks.”

With Minho gone, strolling towards town seemingly without a care in the world, Yunho turned to Changmin and said, “That’s one interesting fiancé you have there.”

Changmin grinned wide. “He’s something. That’s for sure.”

Something good. 

“Here it is,” Yunho said, a short time later when he had everyone together again, which seemed a harder thing than he’d imagined because Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun had locked themselves in their cabin for obvious reasons, Onew was still fussy about leaving the engine room, and Yoochun now seemed glued to his side. Something had happened there, something that Yunho planned to investigate later on, but for now they seemed far closer than they’d been when Yunho had left for New Haven.

Eventually, however, everyone was back in the same room and Yunho placed the lockbox in front of them, waiting only a hair’s breath before popping it open.

“Wow,” Ryeowook said, “that’s beautiful.”

Gleaming under the lights, the blood red gem sparkled in a way that made it look like it was almost worth every bit of trouble they’d had to go through to obtain it.

Yunho pushed it towards Ryeowook and said, “Check it out. Pass it around. Just don’t drop it when I tell you what I’m about to.”

“This doesn’t sound good,” Zhou Mi said, leaning forward. 

“It’s not bad,” Changmin cut in pointedly, almost a little too defensively. 

Yunho gave him an appreciative look, and took one last look at the earnest faces around him. He could still barely believe these people were his crew. This incredible group of people were friends he could to call family. They’d followed him for years, taken simply his word on many things, and gotten caught up in all of the heart pounding consequences that came with flying together. 

He wondered if they’d look at him differently.

“Captain?” Onew asked, sounding uncertain.

“I’ve never been entirely honest with you all,” he said finally, already reaching for the top button on his shirt. “I mean with why I wanted to find the Eye so badly. I never told the truth completely.”

The Eye in his hands, Ryeowook asked, “It’s not for fame, fortune and glory?”

“I like those three,” Kyuhyun interjected, nodding. 

Leeteuk wondered, “The Eye isn’t supposed to lead us to a vault of treasures, then?”

“Oh, I bet it does,” Yunho was quick to say, his fingers feeling a little numb as they worked his shirt’s buttons. “I have no doubt that if we ever manage to find the vault, it’ll be filled with enough treasure from Earth that was to keep us set a hundred lifetimes over. And I know that’s what I sold you all on--on the idea of not having to live job to job, and wonder how we’re going to buy our next supply of fuel cells. But for me? I’m doing it because of this.”

When the last button was down he pulled his shirt from his shoulder and turned his back to the crew so they could see the tattoos for what they were.

It silence that followed was a little anxious, and a lot tense. 

“Holy shit,” Yoochun said eventually, seemingly speaking for the crew. 

Cold fingers pressed against Yunho’s skin without warning and he flinched. 

“Sorry,” Jaejoong said softly, his fingers at a standstill on Yunho’s heated skin. “I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I just think they’re very beautiful.”

Yunho could have laughed himself sick in that moment. All his life he’d found the tattoos to be a burden. Something painted on him as a child, without his permission or any sort of want. He’d hated the tattoos at one point in his life, even loathed them, and on his best days they were simply a nuisance. The kind stretched too thin over time as he grew. 

But Jaejoong thought they were beautiful, and Jaejoong wasn’t a liar.

“What are they?” Jaejoong asked. His fingers settled on the left shoulder patch of Yunho’s skin and he knew what they were focusing on. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho said honestly. “I’ve always had them. My earliest memories are being a kid, wandering the streets looking for food. These tattoos were already there, by that point.”

Changmin gave a firm nod. “Yunho’s had them since he was very young, with no memory of who put them there.”

“And no clue about what they mean,” Yunho said with a sigh.

When Yunho turned back to look at his crew he could see Zhou Mi straining forward, eyes narrowed as he commented, “Those symbols … they’re writing? They’re certainly unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“I think they’re a language of some sort,” Yunho said. “For all I know they could be every answer to the millions of questions I’ve asked over the years. But no one seems to be able to identify the lettering, or even point me in a potential direction. And then of course there’s the link to the Eye.”

Jaejoong fingers tapped over the drawing of the gem etched onto Yunho’s skin.

“Yunho,” Changmin said, “show them the medallion.”

Yunho had thought for sure that the ship blowing up had meant the end of the one possession he’d had his whole life. The disk that he always wore, tethered around his neck, had had to come off for the job on New Haven. Yunho had tucked it safely away in his bunk minutes before leaving the ship, and had thought it to be nothing but space junk in the aftermath of the ship’s recorder being discovered. 

Now he had it resting in his pocket, sans the length of rope it usually hung from, golden and shiny in the light, heavy and cold in his palm.

“This, along with the tattoos, are all I have.” He leveled the disk up so that everyone could see the same strange symbols were engraved into the gold plating. “I’ve hunted for the Eye restlessly because I knew that it would fit into here perfectly. I knew if I put this and the Eye together, I’d get answers of some sort.”

“It certainly looks like it’ll fit,” Leeteuk said quietly.

Feeling especially vulnerable, Yunho mumbled, “I want to know who I am. I want to know were I come from, and who my parents are, and why who ever did this to my body, did. It’s more than a want. It’s a need.

Yoochun, who was currently in possession of the Eye, held it out to him without hesitation. “Then put this thing in there and let’s see what it does.”

Yunho fumbled the disk for a moment and it was Jaejoong’s hands, calming and steady, helping him align the two up, that made all the difference in the world. 

The Eye fit in like it had especially been made to, and the two pieces clicked together without so much as a point of pressure from Yunho.

He only realized then, as he looked down at the fully complete product, that he’d been holding his breath, barely daring the believe that he was actually in possession of both pieces. 

After several seconds of an excruciating wait, nothing happening, and Kyuhyun offered quietly, “Something was supposed to happen, right?”

Yoochun sighed out, “That’s very anti climactic.” 

Yunho wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen. Only that it had been something. Not the nothing that was currently occurring.

“I’m sorry,” he had to tell the others, feeling a flush of shame. “I really thought--”

He was cut off as the disk and Eye began vibrating suddenly. He had to clench his fingers hard around the object to make sure it didn’t go toppling down to the ground. 

The face of the device was moving. It was whirling, spinning around and clicking madly, forming new patterns of the indecipherable symbols, before finally coming to a rest and stopping without so much as an inclination of life.

“I stand corrected,” Yoochun breathed out.

Jaejoong peered down at the disk and observed, “The symbols are in a different order now.”

Leeteuk, on his feet, leaned in for a look himself. “But the symbols .. They still don’t make any sense. What’s the point of the moving around if we don’t know why?”

The point was … there was no point.

Heavy hearted, Yunho put the disk down on the table in front of him and nearly collapsed down in his chair. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, trying not to feel bitter. “I … none of this matters. It’s a dead end.” Part of him had always expected a dead end. Answers would have been nice, but it hadn’t been realistic in the least bit to think he’d get them.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Changmin said, and he was sketching down some of the symbols quickly. “I have access to a respectable size resource database, but I bet Minho had even better access than I do. Or at least his father does. And I’m in a better position than any of you to go looking for what this might be.”

“Changmin,” Yunho said, shoulders slumping. “Don’t bother.”

Changmin gave him a dirty look. “You don’t tell me what to do, Jung Yunho.”

The tiniest of smiles threatened to bloom of Yunho’s face, and while he’d never really admit to it, Changmin bossing him around like the naggy little brother he was, was something Yunho would always find endearing. 

“Isn’t there another component?” Onew asked, face quizzical as he thought aloud. “The stories people tell, the ones about the Eye floating around, there’s always a part about a key that unlocks the vault. Maybe this Eye shows you how to get there, and the key does the unlocking.”

“So we need a key,” Kyuhyun said. “But I’m guessing it won’t actually be a key? I mean, it’s not like the Eye is actually an eye.”

“Guys,” Yunho said, trying to quiet them down. He was touched by their enthusiasm, but it seemed misplaced. “This isn’t worth talking about. We should--”

Leeteuk cleared his throat. “Captain?” he said, voice even toned. “I think we have two options here. Two clear options, and we should take a vote on it.”

“Two?” Yunho echoed.

“Two,” Leeteuk said once more. “The first option, naturally, is that we go with Captain self-deprecating and give up. We cut the Eye down, sell it off in little chunks, live like kings, and never think about what we could have found instead, or the answers Yunho could have had.”

Changmin’s hand paused from where he’d been sketching and he questioned, “I’ll take option two, if you don’t mind. Hearing it isn’t a necessity.”

A grin snuck its way onto Leeteuk’s face. “Or we go with the second option. We hock the other jewels that the Captain brought back with him from the New Haven job, buy ourselves some fuel cells, dry dock the ship for much needed repairs, and then go looking for this key.”

Yunho frowned. “That shouldn’t even be an option. I can’t ask any of you to give up a sure fortune for the maybe chance that we might come close to even hearing about what this key could possibly be. That’s not fair and it isn’t right.”

He was being ignored. It was a little flabbergasting, and Leeteuk went right along saying, “Raise your hand for option one.”

“Tempting,” Ryeowook said, trying to look encouraging, “but no dice. I think we’re all in this for option two.”

“Face it,” Kyuhyun said, drawing Yunho’s attention. “None of us followed you for all these past years on a crazy hunt for a jewel that we didn’t really think even existed, for us to get real proof of it all the sudden and stop. Sorry, Captain, but I think we’re all in for this key.”

Yunho turned suddenly to Jaejoong, and then to Yoochun. “What about you two? Trying to find this key won’t mean big payoffs in the meanwhile.”

Yoochun arched an eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t think we decided to stick around for the massive payouts your crew is clearly not receiving.” Onew knocked him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re family,” Changmin said, getting to his feet in a way that looked natural, and not like he’d been shot recently, which meant he had to be progressing nicely in his recovery. “You are family, Yunho, do you understand that? Not just to me, but to everyone here on this ship, and even to Minho who’s out there soothing a father who he upset in order to get out here and take care of our mess. And when one member of a family, at least one who loves each other like we do, needs something, everyone pulls together.”

Yunho was absolutely certain that he’d suddenly turned into a hormonal teenage girl, what with the way his eyes were burning and air was threatening to explode in his lungs where it had lodged.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to tell them, finding nothing more perfect to say instead. “Thank you for all of this.”

Jaejoong nudged Yunho in the ribs as there was a burst of conversation all around them, some of it unbearably loud. “See?” Jaejoong said quietly. He helped Yunho slip back into his shirt and was dutifully doing up the buttons for him as he relayed, “This is why Yoochun and I wanted to stay, Yunho. Not for the security you wanted to offer, or the safety. Not for anything else but this.”

Yunho leaned a little against him, breathing in his scent and the comfort it gave him. “I get it,” he said. 

Over Jaejoong’s shoulder his eyes met Changmin’s and he mouthed yet another thank you at his brother. Changmin only smiled back at him and mouthed in return a less than complimentary name.

Maybe to Changmin he was a dork. But he was clearly the most loved and valued dork in the ‘verse, so all in all, Yunho thought that was something he could live with.


	22. Twenty-Two: Yunho

Sternly, and in a way that told Yunho that Jaejoong could have just as easily ended up a teacher, the doctor said, “Hold still, please. I can’t do this with you fidgeting about.”

Yunho’s eyes swept over the look of concentration on Jaejoong’s features. “You have no idea,” Yunho told him, “how unbelievably hot you look to me right now.”

Jaejoong’s hands still and he laughed. “Excuse me?”

Yunho all but lunged forward to surprise Jaejoong and peck his lips sweetly. “Honestly, you’re always incredibly attractive to me, but especially right now. I hope you don’t tie ties for everyone looking this hot.”

Jaejoong, who was halfway through folding together the strands of Yunho’s only good tie, eased out, “I have quite a bit of hesitancy in thinking anyone else would find something like this hot, as you put it.” But deliberately he leaned forward as well, kissing Yunho less quickly. “Now, like I said, hold still. And please, inform me how you don’t know how to tie a tie?”

Trying his best not to move around as Jaejoong pulled the strands to the tie close to his throat, Yunho offered, “Because I’m a big bad space pirate and I’ve worn a tie twice in my life. Leeteuk tied it for me before.”

Fingers working deftly, Jaejoong finished the tie in record time and said, “Well, when you get back to the ship, I’ll have to teach you. It’s an important thing for a man to know, regardless of how often he uses the skill.” Jaejoong brushed invisible dirt off the shoulders of Yunho’s jacket, then directed him towards the small mirror in their cabin.

Yunho wasn’t really sure when it had happened, Jaejoong sleeping in his cabin, or it becoming theirs, but it was enough to distract him each time it came to mind. Because Yunho hadn’t ever thought he’d find someone willing and wanting, or more importantly, someone who could take ship life and flourish with it. Life on a ship, especially one such as the Tohoshinki wasn’t easy.

But Jaejoong had more than flourished. He’d more than adapted. Rather, he’d taken to space life like it was something he’d been born into, and that surprised Yunho greatly. There’d always been the hint of fear that he’d acquire space sickness, or the longing for soil and sky. 

Now Yunho spent his days dreaming about crawling into bed with Jaejoong at night, and his nights hoping that the day would never come.

“I think you look very handsome,” Jaejoong said from Yunho’s side, touching the sleeve of his jacket surely. “Yunho, Changmin is going to be pleased when you turn up looking this good.”

Yunho finally let his eyes reach his reflection in the mirror, and even he was a little surprised how good he looked. The suit he’d had to buy for the wedding, complete with costly alterations and tailoring, had been a bit of a doubt at the back of his mind, even after he’d been assured that the final product would flatter him. But flatter him it did. He looked handsome like Jaejoong had said, but more mature as well, without looking aged. The suit created the illusion of straight lines and highlighted his broad, powerful shoulders. It gave him the definition of class, and when he stood in with the crowd that was sure to be at the wedding in a few hours, he wouldn’t look out of place.

That had been his biggest fear. Changmin had never, not once, been ashamed of him. Not of where he or Yunho had come from, or the people they currently were now. So Yunho couldn’t bring himself to even possibly embarrass Changmin by not looking the part of the dutiful older brother.

“I do look presentable,” Yunho admitted fingers fluttering up to the black tie at his throat, with its perfect knot and lines. “I take it you’ve tied a lot of these over the years?”

Jaejoong dropped another kiss to his cheek. “I wore one almost every day after I turned sixteen. It’s easy to learn, if you can be patient and still for a few minutes. I promise, I’ll show you when you get back.” Jaejoong paused, his face pulling a bit sourly after a moment more. “Or tomorrow. I think you’re going to come back extremely intoxicated tonight. Or not until tomorrow morning at all.”

“I’m not going to get wasted at my own brother’s wedding,” Yunho said, making a beeline for the bed where his shoes were neatly tucked under. He’d shined them the night before and they still gleamed as he looked at them now.

“Maybe not drunk,” Jaejoong amended, “but you’ll have a few drinks.”

Yunho let his shoes hang from his fingertips as he turned back to Jaejoong. “I’ll have the customary toast, Jae, but that’s it. Nothing more while we’re this close to Helios.”

Arms ground around himself, Jaejoong gave a look towards the nearby window. They were in space, orbiting the planet at the moment, and it was shinning like a blue orb in against the blackness of space. Jaejoong’s father was down there, too close for comfort, and Yunho could read body language perfectly well to know how upset the idea actually made Jaejoong. Not that Jaejoong had said anything, naturally. He’d been especially pale, and quite, but he hadn’t plied his worries on others, and it was something selfless that made Yunho want to protect him all the more strongly. 

Yunho tossed the shoes onto the bed, something that normally would have gotten him hit over, and took Jaejoong’s face in his hands gently. “Hey,” he said, waiting until he had Jaejoong’s full attention. “You know I won’t let him hurt you.”

Jaejoong gave a forced laugh. “It’s stupid, right? To be a grown man, still afraid of my father like I’m nothing but a child.”

Yunho didn’t think it was stupid for a second, not considering the kind of man Jaejoong’s father was.

Pulling him into a deep embrace, Yunho’s rested his chin on Jaejoong’s shoulder and said, “I know you’re nervous about being here. And if there was any way to smuggle you down to that planet so you could be next to me as Changmin gets married, you know I would. Plus, you know Leeteuk offered to stay back with you and Yoochun on the ship if you want him to.”

“Please,” Jaejoong said, almost with offense. “Changmin is family to Leeteuk. I’m not going to keep him up here with Yoochun and I because being this close to my father terrifies me. No, I think I can manage half a day by myself. I’m not quite that fragile.”

Yunho pressed his mouth against Jaejoong’s, cutting him off with a sound kiss. There was no heat to it, no pressure and no overwhelming passion, just bare love. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Jae. I don’t think you’re fragile. I think you’re quite the opposite, actually.”

But neither was the world out there a friendly place. Jaejoong’s father was the most prominent threat at the moment, a viper within striking distance. But so was the bounty hunter that Leeteuk and the others had dealt with. They’d found the escape pod he’d launched from the ship, but certainly not him, and not enough blood, either, to indicate he’d suffered a fatal wound. He was still out there, still coming for them, and he was a kind of menace Yunho would never take lightly.

They stood there for a minute more, Yunho’s arms heavy around Jaejoong, the quiet of their room almost like a protective bubble.

Then shakily, Jaejoong admitted, “I’m not sacred of my father Yunho. Not when it really think about it. I’m scared of what’s going to happen when he catches up with me. And make no mistake, Yunho, he will.”

Something heavy pounded on the door to the room and Yunho gave a heavy sigh. “That’s my cue.” They were taking the shuttle down to the planet, mostly because Yunho wasn’t bringing his ship and Jaejoong (or Yoochun for that matter) any closer than absolutely necessary. A shuttle meant a small opening for making the decent, and it was a window Yunho couldn’t miss. He would not be late for Changmin’s wedding.

“You’d better go,” Jaejoong said, his back now to the window, but his face still uneasy.

“Jaejoong,” Yunho said, reaching for his shoes and sliding them on. “If your asshole of a father does come knocking, you should already know that there isn’t a single person on this ship who would give you up to him. If he comes, we’ll deal with him then, but we won’t let him take you back, and we won’t let him hurt you.”

“Captain!” a muffled voice called from the other side of the door.

“I’m coming!” Yunho called back.

He was distracted just enough not to see Jaejoong coming, or the heavy, almost sweltering kiss with tongue and teeth that landed on his mouth. 

“I love you,” Jaejoong said, and Yunho froze.

Jaejoong … loved him. That was …

“Don’t look so surprised,” Jaejoong said, kissing him again, then fussing one last time with his tie. “You’re not the only one who can tell someone they love them.”

It was true that Yunho had been mumbling the words to Jaejoong for months now, uncertain at first and more confident now, but he hadn’t heard them in return yet. And he hadn’t expected to, not for a time more. They’d known each other eight months now, which wasn’t the longest of times, and Yunho could wait for Jaejoong to be in love with him. It was worth the wait.

“Here you go,” Jaejoong said, pushing open the door and giving Yunho a shove towards Leeteuk. “Please bring him back in one piece, hopefully as close to sober as he is now, and without having gotten us blacklisted from Helios for any reason.”

“I love you,” Yunho blurted out to Jaejoong, completely ignoring Leeteuk, and feeling as if he needed to say it back as soon as possible. “I love you too … more …”

Leeteuk rolled his eyes heavily. “Captain, we need to go. Kyuhyun’s got the shuttle prepped and ready for launch.”

“Go,” Jaejoong urged. “Yoochun and I will be fine until you come back. Go see Changmin get married and tell him how much I wanted to be there!”

Yunho stumbled his way to the shuttle, Jaejoong’s words still echoing in his mind. Jaejoong loved him. He’d said he loved Yunho. And those were the best words he’d ever heard in his life. 

“What was the hold up?” Kyuhyun asked impatiently when they were on the shuttle, looking quite handsome himself in his dress slacks and collared shirt.

Leeteuk offered up, “To the best of my knowledge, the Captain was busy making out with his boyfriend. You know his priorities when Jaejoong’s involved, Kyuhyun.”

“Disrespectful crew,” Yunho muttered to them, but he offered them a grin a few seconds later as they detached from the ship and were well on their way.

The wedding was set to take place at an incredibly classy looking hall in Helios’ capital city, only a few minutes travel time from the Companion House that Yunho visited Changmin at. The reception was set to follow at the magister’s house himself, a party that was sure to be pretentious and unbearable, but it was the farthest thing from Yunho’s mind. 

The only thing that mattered, from the moment they arrived at the hall, was locating Changmin.

“He’s in the back,” Minho said, when Yunho stumbled across him in the atrium. “He’s a little … tense right now, and apparently I’m the last person he wants to speak to at the moment. Maybe you can talk him down from the ledge he’s on.”

Yunho’s jaw dropped. “He’s up on a ledge?”

“A proverbial one,” Minho laughed, patting Yunho on the back. “Also, you clean up nicely.”

Yunho gave a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good,” Minho said, then held his hand out for Yunho to shake. “Thanks for being here. It means a lot to Changmin, and it means something to me, too.”

Yunho told him, “You’re crazy if you thought for a second I wouldn’t be here to see my brother get married.” Then he was off, determined to see Changmin again after their brief parting. They talked more frequently now, since Changmin’s brush with death, but talking through comm lines and messages wasn’t nearly the same as being in person to do it.

Yunho had to go through several sets of doors to find Changmin, but when he did his brother was less of a mess than Yunho had expected. Changmin was already dressed, his hair styled, and the only hint of apprehension was in the way he was the way he was pacing back and forth, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

Yunho’s mouth curved up into a smile and he stated, “There’s my pain in the ass little brother.” Changmin whirled on him as Yunho added, “At least he looks minimally presentable. You know, despite his face and all.”

The blossom of happiness on Changmin’s face as he looked Yunho over was priceless. Then Changmin replied, “I bet what I’m seeing in front of me is nothing that you managed on your own. I owe Jaejoong, right? I’ll have to send him a fruit basket for being a miracle worker and turning my shabby, dusty, dirty big brother into a presentable gentleman.”

Yunho tugged Changmin into a fierce embrace, letting Changmin squirm for show, but ultimately understanding that it was a mutual need of contact between the two of them.

“I guess,” Yunho reasoned, pulling back and keeping Changmin at arm’s length, “I’ll finally have to admit that you’re not my kid brother anymore. You’re all grown up.”

“I’ve been grown up for a while,” Changmin said a bit like the brat Yunho knew he’d always be. 

Yunho shrugged. “So is there a reason that your fiancé, the one you’re set to marry very shortly, seems to think that there’s a chance you might leap to your doom before the actual event?”

Changmin arched an eyebrow. “We’re on the first floor.”

“A proverbial leap.”

The barest hint of hesitation crept up Changmin’s features. “I may have … been reconsidering my life choices.”

Yunho stared at him. He found that very hard to believe. Changmin wasn’t a man who loved easily, but Yunho knew what he had with Minho. There was nothing forced or contrived, or even uncertain about the love they had. “You can’t be serious. You love Minho.”

Changmin winced. “What am I doing here, Yunho? Getting married? Companions don’t get married. They’re respected members of society, and when they’re ready, they can choose to retire from the lifestyle. But Companions don’t get married.”

Yunho crossed his arms. “I think the reason we’re all here begs to differ.”

Quietly, Changmin said, “Not everyone thinks so highly of what Companions do. Most people wouldn’t want their children marrying a Companion.”

“But Minho is,” Yunho pointed out. “Did his father have a problem with that decision?”

Almost right away, Changmin shook his head. “I never heard any protest, but Yunho, that probably has a lot more to do with the fact that Minho is his father’s second son, one with less standing than the first, and Minho isn’t his father’s heir. Plus, I suspect he approved of our match more because of the business contacts I’m bringing him. But just because I didn’t hear the words, the things that people must be saying about me marrying Minho, doesn’t meant they aren’t be said.”

“This isn’t like you,” Yunho said, more than a little surprised. He leaned over and nudged Changmin in the shoulder, careful not to mess up his clothing. “My little brother is headstrong and confident. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. He’s not like this.”

“He,” Changmin said in a stressed way, “is probably making the biggest step in his life. He also thinks he has a right to be a little nervous and anxious.”

Yunho wrapped his fingers around the back of Changmin’s neck and said, “You know Minho loves you, right? He flew halfway across the Core to find out why I wasn’t returning your calls, and then hauled my ass to you when he found out why. He loves you, Changmin, and love is pretty hard to come by these days.”

“I know,” Changmin said a little sullenly. 

“And,” Yunho continued, “I know you love him, because the gods more than anyone else understand how easily you get bored, but whenever Minho’s around, he has your full attention. Not to mention you turn into a hormonal thirteen year old girl whenever someone mentions his name.”

“I will strangle you with that tie you’re wearing, Yunho.”

Yunho let him know, “Jaejoong tied it for me. Take your anger out on me, please, not him.” Yunho cleared his throat then and used the pressure at the back of Changmin’s neck to draw him closer. “My point is, you love Minho and he loves you. You’re two people in love, and people who are in love, get married. They use the bonds of marriage to represent that love. And Changmin, you shouldn’t give two shits what anyone else thinks of how you love Minho, or what they have to say. I don’t think Minho does.”

It was impossible to judge completely what Changmin’s reaction was going to be, but Yunho was relieved the second he looked a little less severe.

“I only know how to be a Companion,” Changmin pointed out. “What if I make a terrible husband?”

Yunho nearly snorted, “If Kyuhyun can manage to pull it off, I’ve got all the faith in the ‘verse in you. Now, can we end this overdramatic moment? I came here for a wedding, and there’s no guarantee about the open bar if you don’t go through with it.”

“Yunho,” Changmin sighed out, his whole face full of relief now. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Yunho said, rolling his eyes. “Little brother.”

Changmin pulled away from him, straightening his clothing. “I hope you aren’t planning on stumbling your way back to the ship in a drunken stupor.”

Yunho couldn’t help promising, “No way. I am looking forward to enjoying one, very high end glass of scotch, or maybe gin, but that’s it. Jaejoong and Yoochun are alone on the ship right now, and to be completely honest, that makes me all kinds of nervous. Especially considering we’re on Helios and that bounty hunter is still missing.”

Changmin said knowingly, “I’m sorry to bring him so close to Helios, all things considered. He can’t be feeling well. For what its ‘worth, I did try to get the ceremony moved off planet, maybe to Helios’ moon Pax. It just wasn’t doable in the end.”

“He’s tougher than he looks,” Yunho replied, but admitted, “he’s also pretty uneasy about this. He wanted to come to the wedding, Changmin, but we just couldn’t take the risk.”

Changmin’s expression darkened. “Yunho, he couldn’t be here no matter what.”

“I know,” Yunho nodded. “He’d get flagged by any number of security systems and--”

“No,” Changmin said forcefully. “Yunho. You don’t understand. Minho’s father is the magister of Helios. Jaejoong’s father owns most of the trade coming and going from Helios. They’re … drinking friends, I guess you could call them. He’s here, Yunho. He’s at the wedding.”

Yunho felt his muscles lock up. “He’s … here.”

Changmin gave a frantic nod. 

Yunho had tried to think of Jaejoong’s father, the disgusting bastard that he was, as little as possible. He was a man who’d terrorized and abused Jaejoong nearly his entire life, and both is power and position made him nearly untouchable. But when Yunho did think about him, it was often to fantasize about what would happen if their paths ever crossed. Mostly those thoughts encompassed Yunho’s hands around the man’s neck, squeezing until someone pried him off.

And when he was a little less selfish, he imagined himself holding the man down while Jaejoong squeezed.

Yunho could, no matter what anyone said, be selfless.

“Yunho?” Changmin gave him a tentative look. “Please promise me you won’t do anything … drastic.”

“Drastic?” Yunho echoed.

Changmin nodded. “Like ruin my wedding by shooting him in the face.”

“I don’t even have my gun on me,” Yunho said, gesturing down to his hip.

That only earned him a dramatic look from Changmin who told him, “I have never known you, Yunho, to be without your gun unless absolutely necessary. Just because I, nor any of my wedding guests can see your pistol, doesn’t mean you don’t have it with you.”

Defensively, Yunho said, “It’s just in case, Minnie. Just in case.”

Soberly, Changmin said, “Just please, don’t do anything to him at this wedding. If I’m going through with it, it’s got to go off perfectly.” He paused to say a bit more empathetically, “I know he’s a terrible person, who’s done horrible, evil things to Jaejoong, but this isn’t the time or the place for you to get your revenge.”

It felt like an insult to Jaejoong, but Yunho grit his teeth and said, “Alright. As long as he doesn’t make a move on me, first.” 

There was too much evidence, including one missing bounty hunter, that pointed to the fact that Jaejong’s father knew exactly which ship Jaejoong had used to escape Helios from. That likely meant he knew that Yunho was that very ship’s Captain. Over the past eight months Yunho had been very carefully to stay near Rim space with Jaejoong and Yoochun, and keep their faces from being associated with the ship. With even an ounce of luck Jaejoong’s father would consider the option that Jaejoong and Yoochun had already hopped a new transport.

“If I could get rid of him, I would,” Chamgin said sincerely. 

Yunho had to nod. “I know you would. But maybe there is something you can do.” He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a tiny data chip. “A few months ago Jaejoong recorded a message or his sister, explaining to her what really happened, among other things. Ryeowook helped him code it with a protective algorithm because Jaejoong knows his father’s got any direct communications to her being monitored. But if you gave this to her in person, even if he gets his hands on it, it wouldn’t be traceable and only she would know the key to decoding it.”

Changmin plucked the chip from Yunho’s fingers. “Consider it done. And Yunho, please let Jaejoong know that I’ll be more than happy to help bypass his father completely. I’ll have his sister’s reply waiting for him the next time you’re near enough to receive it.”

“I’ll tell him,” Yunho said with a grin. “I know he’ll really appreciate it.”

Changmin gave a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. “He’s practically family at this point, Yunho. Leeteuk told me you two are sleeping together now.”

Yunho gave him a deliberate flick to the forehead. “That’s none of your business, little brother. But yes, that’s what normal, healthy adults do when they’re in love and they want to grow their relationship.”

Changmin mumbled, “I’m sure something is growing.”

Yunho was seconds away from launching an all out attack on his little brother, wedding or no, when the door to the parlor room they were in cracked open and Minho’s head carefully peeked in.

“Safe to come in?” he asked, and for the first time Yunho realized how well dressed he was. Yunho hadn’t been paying attention the first time they’d met, and the second, Yunho had barely been able to function. But now he was dressed in his absolute finest, his suit all sleek lines and perfect seams.

Yunho gave him a playful look. “I have successfully talked my brother down from the proverbial ledge.”

Minho moved into the room completely. “Now, if you could just sit on him, at least until we take our vows, just to make sure he doesn’t run off, that would be great.”

“I can do that,” Yunho said seriously. “Right now, or at the alter?”

Changmin was the one to deliver a firm pinch to Yunho as he made his way to Minho. “I can’t believe I ever worried the two of you wouldn’t get along. I think it might be better if you hate each other. Can you do that?” He reached for a kiss from Minho, then added, “And yes, my heroic big brother has miraculously talked me down from that six inch high ledge I was threatening to jump from.”

“Good,” Minho rumbled, stealing a second kiss from Changmin, and then a third. “Because the last thing I wanted to have to do was jump after you.”

The thing was, Yunho truly believed Minho would have.

The wedding, which took place a full ninety minutes later, was lavish and beautiful, and everything Minho had ever wished for Changmin when they’d been little and starving. In attendance were all kinds of pompous elitists, but Yunho ignored them for the vision of perfection that Changmin was, and how in love Minho radiated when he looked at him.

“That’s him,” Yunho did, however, mumble quietly to Leeteuk the moment vows had been said and Changmin was now officially married. People were filing out from the hall, on their way to the Choi estate where the reception was going to be held. “That’s the bastard.”

It was maybe poor timing on Yunho’s part, what with how Leeteuk’s head was bent in against his date’s, but Kyuhyun was busy flocking around Changmin, and the other members of his crew were spread out too sparsely for Yunho to reach them in an kind of quickness.

At Leeteuk’s side, his date, Heechul, greeted, “Hello, Captain Jung. You must be very happy for your brother.”

Yunho forced a smile towards Heechul. 

He’d never truly known what to think about the Companion. He only knew that Heechul was based out of Persephone, knew Changmin well enough to be invited as a guest and not merely as Leeteuk’s date, and he was the only Companion that Leeteuk ever saw, never slept with, and kept secrets over.

Heechul was actually an absolute mystery to Yunho, as was how he fit in with Leeteuk. But Yunho knew better than anyone else that everyone was entitled to their own secrets.

“Captain?” Leeteuk asked.

“I think,” Heechul cut in smoothly, before anything else could be said, “I’d like to go give my congratulations to Changmin on his marriage. It’s not every day the Companion’s guild gets to celebrate that with one of their own.” He seemed to glide away, impossibly light on his feet. Leeteuk watched him with affection, but nothing more than the brotherly type, and Yunho was even more unsure about the pair.

Leeteuk said quietly to Yunho, “You mean Jaejoong’s father, don’t you?”

Yunho’s eyes tracked the man across the room as he chatted easily with other men. He was big, bigger and more imposing than any pictures had led Yunho to believe, and he certainly had a presence in the room. But all Yunho could see in his mind was such a large man, and such a tiny Jaejoong, and all the horrible things that must have happened that Jaejoong had never spoken of.

“Changmin made me promise not to shoot him.”

Across the room Yunho could see Zhou Mi watching them carefully. He’d picked up on their body language and was moving towards them within a half second.

“You want me to show Mister Kim to a private room?” Leeteuk asked. “Because I didn’t make any such promise to Changmin.”

“No,” Yunho finally sighed, more than a little regretful. “But we need to keep an eye on him. Jaejoong and Yoochun are floating above our heads as we speak. If he gets any inclination that they’re there, we’re going to have a problem.”

Zhou Mi asked, coming up on them, “We have a problem?”

“Possibly,” Leeteuk said.

As much as Yunho wanted to be the one to pull the trigger, ruining Changmin’s reception would be as bad as ruining his wedding. So unless Jaejoong and Yoochun were in danger, Yunho knew he’d have to bide his time. This, more than likely, was not the moment they made Jaejoong’s father pay.

So, as they moved to the estate, and the reception stretched from only a few hours to many, Yunho was both disappointed and relieved that it went smoothly and calmly. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, and Yunho slowly let himself relax.

“I love you,” Yunho said to Changmin when eventually the party was dwindling, and Minho was nagging Changmin about leaving for their honeymoon. “Congratulations, and send me a message, will you? When you get back?” 

Changmin hugged Yunho tightly and laughed out, “Thank you for not shooting anyone. I’ll send you that message, and you promise not to go off and get into any trouble. At least not without me.”

“I don’t think so,” Minho said, giving Changmin a playful tug away from Yunho. “No more trouble for you. And Yunho, brother-in-law of mine, I believe I told you to return Changmin to me in mint condition, the last time he went off gallivanting across the ‘verse with you. Did you forget to tell me something?”

Yunho hesitated. “Changmin … you …ah … told him about that.”

“About getting shot?” Changmin said it so easily and with a roll of his eyes, that Yunho knew it was something he’d never hold against Yunho, or blame anyone for. “It was a little hard for me to hide the wound from him, Yunho. We see each other naked on a nightly basis.”

Yunho blanched. “Please don’t ever say something like that to me ever again.”

Changmin teased, “During the day, too.”

Minho cleared his throat and held his hand to Yunho for a shake. “One time’s a free pass, okay? Because we’re family. But never again, right?”

Yunho met his hand with a firm grip and nodded, mouth feeling a little like it was stuffed full of cotton. “Never again.”

“So it went perfectly?” Jaejoong asked when Yunho and the others were safely back on the ship. Changmin and Minho had been spirited away to their honeymoon, and it was only Leeteuk they were waiting for, who was using the bridge to send a final communications message to Heechul, before Kyuhyun took them out of range.

Yunho sat with a groan on the edge of their bed and pulled off his dress shoes. It was late and he’d allowed himself to have a second drink, and Jaejoong had already undone the top button on his shirt, which meant he was done for the day in the infirmary and was likely heading to bed. 

“It was really nice,” Yunho admitted. “Changmin’s really happy, and I’m happy for him. Also, I gave him the chip with your message recorded on it. He’ll get it to your sister the second he’d back on Helios. And then he said the next time we swing by, he’ll have her reply for you.”

Jaejoong tiled Yunho’s chin up and dropped a kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Yunho.” 

“No problem.” Yunho shrugged out of his jacket and put a hand down on the small, metal nightstand that was next to their bed. It was cluttered full of knickknacks and an alarm clock, and tiny things that Yunho was afraid to misplace. Like the Eye.

He’d always meant to put it in a lock box, and tuck it safely away, but there was something mesmerizing about it. He was almost compelled to stare at it, his eyes tracing the patterns of the unfamiliar symbols, hoping for just was second he’d see something that made sense. 

“Yunho,” Jaejoong said in a displeased way. “Please tell me you aren’t about to take a shift on the bridge.”

“Of course I am,” Yunho said, then pushed himself up off the bed. It was his turn, regardless of the party he’d just been to. Kyuhyun would get them out of orbit, and set on their next course, but it was Yunho’s turn at the helm, and he couldn’t ask anyone else to take his shift for him.

Jaejoong snapped, “Yunho! You’re obviously tired and in need of sleep.”

Yunho’s hand slipped off the edge of the nightstand sharply, the edge of the object biting into his palm and slicing across his skin. There was blood immediately and Yunho hissed in pain as he crashed to his knees.

Jaejoong was to his side a breath later, holding his hand carefully, inspecting the damage. Blood dripped to the floor as Jaejoong said, “It’s deep, Yunho. I think you’re going to need stitches.” 

“I’m just tired,” Yunho said, his eyes a little heavy. “Trust me, I don’t want to be heading to the bridge. I’d much rather climb into bed with you. But it’s my shift. Kyuhyun actually needs to sleep. He can’t fly the ship continuously.” 

Jaejoong gave him a small smile and reached for a nearby undershirt, using it to apply pressure to Yunho’s palm. “I’d much rather you come to bed, too. But I can tell you right now you’re not going to the bridge. You’re coming with me to the infirmary.” Jaejoong got to his feet and trekked across the room to where the small intercom was. 

“Stitches?” Yunho asked with a scowl. 

“Stitches,” Jaejoong confirmed. He pressed the intercom and called up to the bridge, “Kyuhyun? Yunho’s had a little accident and he needs stitches. Can you stay up there, or call someone to cover his shift?”

Yunho called over to him, “Tell Kyuhyun I’ll be up in fifteen! Don’t call anyone else. I just need to get the stitches and I’ll be there.”

Jaejoong took his finger off the button and said, “You know by now the kind of doctor I am. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you on the bridge with that wound and as tired as you are.”

Yunho looked down and his hand and muttered, “Who’s ship is this actually?”

Then he realized that he hadn’t just cut himself when he’s lost his balance. He’d knocked almost everything on the table to the floor as well. With a sigh he noticed the Eye, still imbedded in its disk, was there was well, overturned and halfway under the bed.

Yunho reached for it instinctively, wanting to recover the only link to his past that he had. The shirt he’d been using as a makeshift bandage slipped away from Yunho’s palm, and he picked up the Eye before he realized what he was doing. Blood smeared on it and Yunho groaned.

“Yunho,” Jaejoong said, back at his side, helping guide him to his feet. Jaejoong plucked the Eye from his grasp and said, “I’ll just disinfect this later for you, okay? But now it’s time for stitches.”

The Eye, streaked with Yunho’s blood, was set on the now barren bedside table as Jaejoong put an arm around Yunho’s waist for support.

“Wait,” Yunho said, using almost all of his strength to stop Jaejooong before they could leave. He twisted away from Jaejoong’s grip just after that and almost dashed back to the Eye. “Jaejoong!

Jaejoong hovered nearby, eyes wide. “What’s happening?”

Regardless of the blood seeping down his hand freely, Yunho ignored his wound and instead focused on he Eye.

The symbols were changing again. Through the redness marring the gold, the symbols were so obviously changing, flipping, inverting, and some were erasing completely. It was nothing Yunho had ever seen before. 

Then the Eye settled, and when all was said and done, there were even more markings than before.

“Why did it do that?” Yunho asked quietly.

Jaejoong shrugged, but then guessed, “Maybe it was the blood. Your blood? I mean, the Eye and the disk are linked to you and no one else, Yunho. Speaking of keys, maybe we were stupid to discount you might be one. At least to this.”

Yunho held the Eye up to the light. “These new markings? The look just as much like gibberish as the old.” But they were distinctly different. There seemed to be no relation between the first set of markings and now the latest. 

“Wait,” Jaejoong said, taking the Eye carefully, his fingers smudging with Yunh’s blood. “I’ve seen … Yunho, I know exactly what these symbols are.”

Yunho felt a rush of hope. “You can read them?”

“No,” Jaejoong said quietly, “but I don’t think you’re supposed to.” He turned the Eye so Yunho could see the surface of the disk again. “These are Greek letters, Yunho.”

“Greek?” Yunho shrugged. “What’s Greek?”

“It’s a language of Earth that was,” Jaejoong explained quickly. “We use it as the basis for a great deal of medicine and mathematics. That’s how I know it. Yunho, do you know what this is? These letters being on here?”

Silently, Yunho shook his head. The pain in his hand had gone numb, replaced by the hope in his heart.

“Yunho.” Jaejoong caught Yunho’s mouth with his own, kissing him deeply and fiercely. “It’s a cipher, Yunho. It’s a way to decode the symbols that were on here before. We can figure them out, Yunho. We can translate what it means.”

Yunho gave a whoop of pure, unabashed joy and caught Jaejoong around the waist. He pulled the man he was desperately in love with off his feet and spun them around, shouting, “I can’t believe it!”

So many years. So many questions. It was overwhelming when Yunho thought of it at times. Be here, now, he had Jaejoong telling him that they could figure out what the disk said, and potentially lead them all the way to the answers Yunho had been desperate for since childhood.

“We can do it,” Jaejoong promised, peppering Yunho’s face with kisses. “We can, Yunho.”

Yunho hugged Jaejoong as tightly as he dared, suddenly surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He’d started crying and hadn’t even realized it.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Jaejoong said, letting the Eye rest between them as he took Yunho’s face into his hands. “You’ll have your answers, Yunho.” He kissed Yunho a bit more slowly this time, certainly more softer, and with more care.

The tears continued to come, staining Yunho’s cheeks with wetness, but he ignored them. Kissing Jaejoong back he slid the fingers of his uninjured hand up into the man’s short hair and shuddered as his heart thundered with life. 

Everything, he realized. For the first time in his life, he had everything. 

Suddenly crying didn’t feel so embarrassing.

Not now that he had a chance. 

And all the support in the world to take it. 

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

Congratulations everyone! You’ve made it all the way to the end of the story … the first story in a duelology, of course! Seriously. This story never started out as the first in a two part, but it absolutely just grew and grew, with the universe expanding outward (as it tends to do), and eventually this story just got too big to be contained in one entry. So never fear, there is a second part coming, I have started work on it, and it will be the end cap of what I hope is an amazing adventure.

However let’s talk about this story for a second. This story, as you might imagine, was a labor of love. All my stories are, but this one really put me through the ringer in terms of balancing the cast, setting decent pacing, and keeping things interesting. This story had a lot going on, and I did my very best to deliver on the promises I made. 

So that said, this is the ONLY time I will ever ask for feedback. For those of you who left comments religiously, I love and adore you. For those of you who left them once in a while, I appreciate you. And for those of you who lurked menacing in the background (the best way to lurk, by the way), this is the time when you drop that one, important comment! What are your final impressions of this story? What did you enjoy the most? Any issues with the story? Please, sound off. I really, really want to know, because your feedback will only made the second story that much better. So take a second and let me know!

Until next time!


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